


Maybe I'm Too Busy Being Yours To Fall For Somebody New

by evieoh, stargazerdaisy



Series: skyeward college frenemies AU [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Banter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff, Prank Wars, Slow Burn, So Many Cliches and Tropes and No Shame, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-08 04:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieoh/pseuds/evieoh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/pseuds/stargazerdaisy
Summary: Skye meets Grant Ward during Freshman orientation and it's Loathe At First Sight. He is easily the most irritating and infuriating person she has ever met. But fate (and their friends) seem determined to push the two of them together. Over the next four years their lives become inextricably intertwined, as they are forced to admit that they might actually be friends.





	1. Freshman Year

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, my previous account was hacked and all my fics deleted, so I am reuploading them all now. This fic was the first official collaboration between myself and my amazing friend Daisy, originally posted in October 2016.
> 
> So this started kind of as a writing exercise where Evie tried to write a fic using as many prompts from those AU prompt lists on tumblr as possible (prompts posted at the end of the fic, to avoid spoilers) and then she started listening to Chvrches cover of “Do I Wanna Know” on repeat and suddenly everything fell into place.
> 
> Then Evie fell into a slump of writers block and basically abandoned the story until Daisy came along and declared that it was going to be finished. Through plenty of hand-holding, cajoling, whining, and a fair amount of our own friendships being inserted into the story, we finally managed to actually finish it with a couple of weeks.
> 
>  
> 
> [fic art on evie's tumblr](http://evieoh.tumblr.com/post/151121118124/maybe-im-too-busy-being-yours-to-fall-for) and [There is also a playlist for this series](http://evieoh.tumblr.com/post/157275950682/skyeward-frenemies-college-au-playlist)

_“Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep?”_

 

It all started the day she opened an envelope with Grant Ward’s name in it.

Well, to be fair, it technically started a week before that, when someone in charge decided that a building-wide game of Assassins would be a good ice-breaker for their Freshman dorm. They’ve all been at college for a month now, but everyone still seems a little overwhelmed and lost, so Skye can fully support anything that’s supposed to bring them all together. Giving them all Nerf guns and the name of someone who lives in their dorm as a target seems like a slightly counter-intuitive way to go about building a sense of community, however. Skye’s roommate Jemma was surprisingly gleeful at the idea though and her enthusiasm was contagious.

Somehow, Skye ends up being one of the final five contenders in the game, through a bizarre set of coincidences even she isn’t quite sure of. It’s fun, but she still doesn’t feel especially invested in it. And then she ‘kills’ a smug redhead named Lorelei and gets Grant Ward’s envelope.

Skye has only actually spoken to Grant Ward a few times, all of them due to his roommate being Jemma’s best friend Fitz, and he is honestly the most grating, rude, and dismissive asshole she has ever met. From what she’s seen of him around campus since then, her opinion has not improved at all. As she looks at the card with his name neatly printed on it, her focus narrows, remembering the way he’d sneered and asked what her ‘real name’ was when they were introduced, and at this point she is in it to win it. She isn’t even entirely sure what the prize is, but she is honestly beyond caring about that now. It’s the principle of the thing.

It gets down to the two of them, of course, and suddenly nowhere is safe. What started out as a supposedly friendly get-to-know-each-other game has turned her world into high stakes espionage. She has Ward’s schedule memorized, and three separate routes around campus to avoid ever getting caught by him. Now she just needs a time to catch him unaware without giving him the chance to get her.

In the end he figures out her own strategy and uses it against her.

She has been analyzing his daily schedule, trying to find the perfect time and place to ambush him, and it never occurred to her that he might be laying a trap of his own.

She’s waiting around the corner from his Intro to Criminal Justice lecture hall, waiting for him to walk past her in exactly three minutes like he has every other day, when she hears the sound of quiet footsteps behind her. She turns with a start to find Ward standing there, weapon raised and aimed at her chest. With that almost robot-blank expression, and the weapon in his hand (even if it is bright orange), all he’s missing are the dark sunglasses to complete the look of the government toolbag he is destined to become.

Skye has just enough time to inhale sharply in surprise when she feels the foam projectile hit her in the chest.

“Gotcha,” Ward smirks at her before walking away and leaving her stewing in impotent rage. She was so sure she had it all figured out, how on earth did he manage to get the drop on her like that?

The prank war starts innocently enough. A few days after Ward wins the game, Skye is standing in line at the stationary store when she notices Ward searching through the display of pens with a frustrated look on his face while Fitz stands at his side with a look of vague confusion, which Skye shares enough to let someone slip in front of her in line to try and satisfy her curiosity. Eventually Fitz finally asks Ward why he is trashing the pen display and Skye can just make out Ward’s muttered reply that he can’t find the pens he’s looking for. Fitz just looks a little more confused at that response, which again, Skye can relate. A pen is a pen. But then Ward starts waxing poetic about why he needs those  _specific_  pens, and she glances down at the three she has clutched in her hand. She has no particular pen loyalty, she just grabbed the first black ones she saw and didn’t think much of the fact that they were the last three left. She glances towards the boys consideringly for a split second, it’s not like she gives a crap about the pens, she can just grab three others and give these ones to Ward if he has such a weird need for these exact pens. But her pride is still stinging enough from his smug victory that the sight of him looking so overwrought by something as ridiculous as not getting his special pens has her closing her fist tightly around them and walking up to the cashier with a broad grin gracing her features. As she makes her way out of the store she can’t stop herself from smirking as she passes Ward and Fitz, waving smugly with the pens clearly visible in her hand.

The look of confusion morphing into a kind of enraged exasperation that colors Ward’s features puts a bounce in her step for the rest of the day.

It was petty, and ultimately inconsequential, and might have been the end of things if Ward hadn’t been such a dick the next time they were forced to hang out by Jemma and Fitz. Because really, that fight was not her fault.

After that Skye decides she needs payback - the pettier the better. This is where the plastic army men come in. She finds a packet abandoned in the common room on the boys’ floor while she and Jemma are hanging out with Fitz, and sets up an elaborate battlefield outside Ward and Fitz’s door in the middle of the night, with all the little soldiers stuck to the floor.

Fitz’s description of Ward’s reaction is enough to make it an obsession of hers to see that squeezed lemon look he got on his face in the stationary store again. And so the green plastic battle dioramas become a thing. She arranges one around his laptop when he leaves it briefly unattended in the study lounge. There is another one waiting for him in his usual seat in his 9am class. Skye’s personal favorite is the one she arranges on his bed when she and Jemma stop by to pick up Fitz to go to the movies. Unfortunately that’s also the one that gives her up as the culprit and Ward turns out to be just as focused on revenge as she is, pricking every can of energy drink in her mini fridge with a tack so every single one is flat when she opens it. (He’s creative, she’ll give him that.)

It’s war after that.

Skye replaces his textbooks with Dr Seuss. Ward gets a universal remote and changes the channel every time he walks past her room. She retaliates by swapping out his after shave with warming lube and he responds with a green rinse in her shampoo.

Jemma and Fitz are adamant about staying out of their ridiculousness until Skye makes the fake want ad with Ward’s number and the phone rings all night, keeping both Ward and Fitz awake. After that, the two of them take their revenge with a singing bass that Fitz has recalibrated to sing at an earsplitting volume at totally random intervals, placed just out of reach of both girls in their room. Skye manages to recruit Jemma after that, and the Brit’s first suggestion is short sheeting the guy’s beds. It seems a little summer camp to Skye, but then again so is the whole prank war to be honest, so it seems fitting. Ward’s next move was to put saran wrap covered with honey directly at face height across their dorm room doorway. Skye stumbled into the sticky mess first thing in the morning, still half asleep and zombie-like on her way to the bathroom. It was a rude awakening to say the least. The sight of Ward standing in the hall, doubled over at her flailing, in the first genuine laughter she has ever actually seen from him, has her seething as she plots her vengeance.

Somewhere along the way this went from just a petty urge to irritate Ward beyond belief and became a driving need to be the one who wins this ridiculous war between the two of them, regardless of the cost or damage.

Jemma broaches the topic of Skye’s growing obsession the night before Thanksgiving break.

“I’m simply saying,” Jemma looks at her pointedly as the two of them fill the interior of Ward’s car with ping pong balls, stuffing them through the small gap of a slightly opened window. “There might be easier, not to mention cheaper, ways for the two of you to work out your issues with each other.”

Skye just smirks back at her friend while jamming another handful of balls through the window. “But this way is so much fun. I mean, come on, don’t you want to see his face when he opens the door in the morning to an avalanche of ping pong balls?”

Jemma laughs and shakes her head, but agrees nonetheless as she continues stuffing the car with balls. “I’m merely pointing out that standing out in the parking lot in the middle of the night, and dragging me along with you, to stuff little plastic balls through a tiny gap is possibly a little obsessive.”

“Ok, A - you totally came along willingly, and B -  _he covered our door with saran wrap and honey and then stood there waiting to watch us walk into it_. I am not the only one here who is in this to win it.”

Jemma leans down to grab another handful of ping pong balls from one of the buckets at their feet and mutters something under her breath. Skye only manages to make out a few words that sounds suspiciously like “just fuck already.”

“Excuse me?!” she exclaims in horror, both at Jemma’s suggestion and also a little in shock at hearing her friend swear.

“Oh come on, Skye,” Jemma says exasperatedly as she turns back towards her. “I’m fairly certain you would have a lot more fun than this if you two morons would just admit that this entire thing is based on some seriously ridiculous sexual chemistry and get naked together, AND I wouldn’t have to freeze my arse off in the carpark in the middle of the night either.”

Skye splutters in denial, but nothing she says seems to make the slightest dent in Jemma’s smug expression. The Brit just nods primly and continues to jam ping pong balls through the window as Skye stares at her with her mouth half open in indignation.

As she sits outside in the bitter chill of the early morning, waiting for Ward to come out to his car to find her latest surprise, her hands wrapped around her thermos of coffee and her toes and butt numb from sitting out here in the cold for the last two hours waiting for him to appear, Skye can finally admit that Jemma might have a point.

Not about her ridiculous notion that Skye and Ward’s interactions are fueled by some kind of intense sexual tension, that is just insane. But, she admits to herself as she stamps her feet to try and regain feeling in them, it is quite possible that her obsession with pranking Ward might be getting a little extreme.

But then Ward arrives at last, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder and all ready to drive home for Thanksgiving break. The look on his face as he opens the driver’s side door and unleashes the flood of little white plastic balls is enough to solidify her passion for the cause. She might not be able to feel her toes, but being able to catch Ward’s expression of open-mouthed horror and confusion on camera makes everything worth it.

He looks around the parking lot accusingly and Skye stands up from her bench with a broad grin and salutes him mockingly before turning away. She walks back towards the inviting warmth of her dorm room at last, leaving Ward in a knee deep pile of ping pong balls with a look on his face that is shifting between rage and reluctant admiration.

 

He’s quiet for almost a week after returning from Thanksgiving break, and Skye is close to declaring herself queen of the prank war in the face of his obvious acceptance of defeat, until she walks into her room after a long day of classes and finds everything on her side of the room gift wrapped.

Literally everything.

Her drawers, her pillow, her entire desk. Everything is carefully covered in brightly patterned Christmas wrapping. There are even little bows and ribbons on her individually wrapped textbooks. It must have taken him hours. She can’t help but feel a little impressed.

The prank war eventually comes to a head when Skye duct tapes the boys’ door shut. (She saw the Batman duct tape in the store and couldn’t resist it.)

Fitz ends up nearly missing a final exam, having to climb out the window to make it in time, and after that he and Jemma sit Skye and Ward down and force the two of them to agree to a truce. Skye can reluctantly agree that the duct tape was possibly a little too far. (Although, privately, she thinks that their room is only on the second floor, it wouldn’t have been  _that_  hard to climb down.) Shaking Ward’s hand and calling it a draw is still something she has to do with gritted teeth though. It’s only the fact that he looks like it is just as painful for him that gets her through it. Fitz and Simmons are happy, and Ward and Skye agree that they never have to speak to each other again.

 

And that should have been that, until she walks into Room G4 for her Sociology elective the first week of second semester, and there he is in the back corner. Skye isn’t even aware that she has stopped dead in her tracks until someone collides with her back, hard, and sends her stumbling against the doorframe. The person pushes past with barely muttered apology, and Skye shakes herself off and walks toward a desk toward the front of the room with as much grace as she can manage. She finds herself glaring over her shoulder at him throughout most of the professor’s course introduction though, and the minute the class is finished she is stalking towards him.

“What the hell are you doing in this class?” she hisses at him as she jabs him hard in the chest. A rational part of her brain knows that she is acting mildly unhinged, but that part is easily ignored.

For his part, Ward just looks as incredulous and indignant as she feels. “I need this class for my major. What the hell are  _you_  doing here, if you’re in CS?”

“Gen Ed,” she replies, ignoring for now that he somehow knows her major. “I need a stupid Social Sciences credit and this is the only course without prerequisites that looked tolerable. Seriously, you have to change to something else.”

He is looking at her skeptically now, with his arms folded across his chest. “Did you not hear me say I need this for my major?”

“So take it next semester, I seriously cannot deal with any of the other courses,” she can hear the whine in her voice now, and his smirk at its appearance doesn’t help at all.

“Well then,” he says smugly. “Guess you’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with it.”

He turns and strides away without another word, and his legs are honestly just stupidly long, he is at least 20 feet away from her by the time she even thinks about trying to follow him. She settles for yelling at his back, “You’re making a big mistake!”

He doesn’t even bother turning around, just calls over his shoulder dismissively, “You don’t look that big.”

There is a surprising amount of cheerfulness in her tone as she shouts after him, “I’m going to make your life hell!”

She does her level best to keep her promise and the class discussion times quickly devolve into the Skye and Ward debate hour. She doesn’t even remember exactly how it started, but there is honestly just something about him that makes her violently oppose his viewpoints. Even if it’s something she doesn’t actually care about. (The day the she finds herself shouting and calling him a fascist in the middle of a heated class discussion is the day she acknowledges that there is something about Grant Ward that makes her completely irrational.) Half the class groans in frustration as soon as one of them opens their mouth, knowing exactly how the rest of the discussion is going to go, while the other half seem to view it as some kind of entertainment.

Even their professor seems to be in on it, pairing the two of them for their final assignment of the course. By the smirk on his face as he reads off the groups, Skye is convinced that Professor Coulson has seen way too many Katherine Heigl movies.

They end up working surprisingly well together though, once they finally stop disagreeing just for the sake of it, which honestly kind of pisses her off even more. More than once they are at the library until midnight, and Skye honestly isn’t even sure why she is putting so much effort into the final paper for a class she is only taking to fill a requirement. It’s like there is still some sense of competitiveness with Ward, that she has to prove that she can work just as hard as he can. ( _And maybe there is a tiny, miniscule, part of her that enjoys how well they work together. How he listens to her ideas and puts forth his own, the way that their perspectives mesh when they aren’t screaming at each other._ )

It’s on one of those nights in the library that she and Ward are in the middle of what they are pretending is a rational and calm discussion, but really devolved into a whispered shouting match a few minutes earlier, when a guy walks up to their table and greets her with a broad grin. “So, you must be the famous Skye.”

Skye is, possibly for the first time in her life, genuinely speechless as she stares in surprised silence at the stranger with the blinding smile. Ward groans on the other side of her, drawing her attention back to him as he glares at the newcomer before finally breaking and reluctantly introducing them. “Skye, this is Trip. Trip, Skye.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Trip beams at her, his smile somehow growing even wider. “I have heard so much about you.”

Ward clears his throat warningly, but Trip just smirks and ignores him.

Skye finds it impossible not to return Trip’s grin, but as his words sink in she finds herself glancing appraisingly at Ward out of the corner of her eye. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” he leans in conspiratorially as he sits in the empty chair. “I spent most of last semester listening to this one go on and on about the pranks you pulled. For someone who barely speaks he could  _not_  shut up about you, girl.”

“Aww, Ward, do you liiiiike me?” Skye singsongs jokingly as Ward’s expression tightens into that squeezed lemon look that only she seems capable of bringing out in him.

“I feel like that description leaves out the fact that I spent most of the time cursing her name and planning revenge,” Ward glares at Trip.

Trip, for his part, just chuckles at the two of them as he leans back in his chair and watches them like they are a new form of entertainment.

After that first meeting Trip becomes a permanent fixture. Skye isn’t complaining though, it’s always nice to have someone else around who seems to get just as much enjoyment out needling Ward as she does. The fact that the two guys are friends is still something of a mystery to her though. Trip seems altogether too friendly, and  _normal_ , to be friends with someone like Grant Ward. (Fitz doesn't count, his friendship with Ward was mandated entirely by the housing department.)

Jemma gets along with Trip well too. The two of them have some kind of grade-school flirtation thing going on where there definitely seems to be an attraction there but neither of them seem capable of taking it any further. The fact that he seems to share Jemma’s delusion that there is some sort of belligerent sexual tension between Skye and Ward just seems to bond the two of them even more.

Of course, the fact that he so clearly likes Jemma seems to be exactly what makes Fitz dislike him so much. Skye can’t help but feel sympathy for her friend, but at the same time he has had years to make a move and even now he is just muttering snippy comments about Trip under his breath and not actually telling Jemma how  _he_  feels.

Jemma, for her part, seems to be stuck somewhere between her attraction to Trip and her refusal to acknowledge her attraction to Fitz, so the three of them seem to be stuck in a holding pattern that makes Skye wince.

So really, she doesn’t think any of them are in a position to comment on the ridiculous love story they have conjured up between her and Ward. At the most, they have reached a point of grudging acceptance of each other. It is definitely not some kind of tragically unresolved epic love. (The patronizing smiley face that Coulson puts next their final grade doesn’t help matters at all.)

Once their presentation is over, the two of them shake hands, agreeing that once the semester is over in a week and they’ve both moved out of the dorm, they’ll never have to see each other again.

It’s a big enough school that they can probably manage it. ( _Skye refuses to put a name to that feeling that flickers inside her at the thought of never seeing him again._ )


	2. Sophomore Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (there is some very, very brief and barely explored Skye/Other and Ward/Other in this chapter.)

  
_“Simmer down and pucker up”_

Jemma moves into the Science dorms Sophomore year, so Skye’s new roommate is a girl named Raina. She wasn’t necessarily expecting to make another best friend just because they are stuck in a small room together for the year, but Raina is something completely unexpected in an entirely different way. Skye is honestly unsure half the time whether Raina is studying her for some kind of single white female type deal, or if she is planning on murdering Skye in her sleep. There’s nothing specific that Skye can put her finger on exactly, but there is something deeply unsettling about the other girl and the way she smiles to herself like there is some kind of cosmic secret and only she is in on it.

One morning she wakes up to find Raina sitting across the room with a notebook, seeming to watch her sleep as she takes notes. Raina just smiles enigmatically and says good morning, while Skye spends the rest of the day feeling a little like she is about to jump out of her skin. Then there’s the fact that even though Raina never seems to wear anything other than one of her apparently endless collection of floral print dresses, Skye has begun to notice some of her clothes smelling an awful lot like Raina’s perfume.

So Skye ends up spending a lot of time hanging out with Jemma in the common room of her genius dorm, along with Jemma’s new friend Bobbi. At first, the amazonian blonde seemed a little intimidating - being that gorgeous and and then being super smart on top of it. Plus Jemma had a serious case of hero worship when she first became friends with her, which was enough to bring out Skye’s insecurity and abandonment issues. But Bobbi is so genuinely warm and friendly, always including Skye in group conversations and making sure that she is a part of any plans, that Skye finds herself falling into the hero worship pretty much as bad as Jemma. Bobbi is one of those people that just seems to be friends with everyone, she always looks effortlessly cool and fashionable, and she took a year off after high school to help build schools in Africa. It’s kind of hard not to be a little in love with her. She almost seems a little too perfect to be real sometimes.

The first time Skye sees Bobbi and her on-again, off-again boyfriend together, however, she sees an entire other side to her friend. Hunter seems to be the one person capable of obliterating Bobbi’s cool, calm, and collected facade. It’s both disorienting and a little reassuring to see Bobbi act so much like a regular girl as she screeches at Hunter about something like how t-shirts are not appropriate dress for the fancy steakhouse they’re meeting her parents at, or how he isn’t trying hard enough at Angry Birds, or the clear superiority of crunchy peanut butter over creamy.

Suddenly, after spending so much of her life not alone but mostly a loner, Skye finds herself in the middle of large group of friends. She has Jemma and Fitz, and now Bobbi. Hunter turns out to be friends with Trip, which unfortunately brings Ward back into her life, plus Bobbi’s friends Kara and Mack join them on the odd occasion. It’s the first time Skye has ever had something like this, friends like family, and they do ridiculous things like a monthly bowling night and movie nights and board game nights.

Of course, Skye and Ward’s competitive sides eventually come out, to the fascination and entertainment of everyone who wasn’t around to witness the two of them in their Freshman year war, and the horror of those who were. First there was mini-golf, then the batting cages. They play laser tag for awhile too, and while Skye feels a little ridiculous running around and trying to avoid knocking into all the ten year olds playing, she eventually gets into the spirit of it. (Getting to shoot Ward is incredibly cathartic to her still wounded pride from last year.)

After the fiasco with the bumper cars though, everyone agrees that things would definitely go smoother if Skye and Ward were on the same team rather than in any kind of competition. The two of them work together remarkably well, and Skye is reminded of the way their different styles complemented each other with their Sociology project. The pair is almost unstoppable as a team, only Fitz and Jemma ever beating them on any kind of skill based basis, and then only occasionally, depending on the skill involved. They settle into a grudging kind of friendship, though Skye is still loath to call it that. There is still a strong verbal sparring to their relationship, but it’s more bantery than vitriolic like the year before.

Even though their relationship has tamed somewhat, Skye is still relieved she doesn’t share any classes with Ward this semester. There is, however, a cute pre-med major named Lincoln who always asks her out but she keeps turning him down. He seems sweet and he’s smart and funny, and she isn’t really sure what it is that is holding her back but something keeps her from saying yes. (The memory of the look on Ward’s face, and his tone as he muttered to Fitz, “Who’s this guy?” the time she ran into Lincoln while out with the group, and the little thrill that ran down her spine at the idea of Ward being jealous is something she resolutely packs away in a box and refuses to think about.)

 

Skye storms into her room one afternoon, slamming the door shut as she hurls her jacket violently at the chair. When that fails to satisfy her anger, she starts throwing her purse, her keys, her phone on her bed, and looks around for shoes or something else to make hearty thud.

"Of course, Mr I'm-Grant-Ward-and-I-know-everything wins. OF FREAKING COURSE!" Skye rants as she yanks her shoes off and paces the miniscule space between their beds.

Raina simply looks up from her textbook with one perfectly arched eyebrow raised slightly in response to Skye’s violent entrance.

Skye continues seething as she paces, muttering under her breath about Ward and all the ways she is going to make him pay for being such an insufferable know-it-all asshole and  _why_  is he so intent on  _ruining her life_? She is barely even aware of Raina’s presence anymore, lost in her rage, and then the other girl speaks and Skye is so startled she stops her pacing mid-step.

“Is it really that hard to see? It’s love,” Raina says as she smiles sweetly. As though her words are not completely  _insane_.

Skye actually looks behind her to see if Raina could be talking to anyone else. How the hell could anyone connect  _love_  to Grant Ward being the Class A jackass that he always is?

And how the hell did she pull that from Skye’s ranting? Skye has always suspected the girl is a few screws short of a toolkit, but this is just completely beyond.

Raina simply goes back to her book, as if the last five minutes never happened. Skye is left so thoroughly baffled, the wind taken utterly and completely out of her sails, that she can only think to sit down and open her own books. She has definitely entered the Twilight Zone.

( _She is_ not _in love with Grant Ward._ )

 

It happens at a party in March. Someone suggested Spin The Bottle and for some reason a game they played as pre-teens is ridiculously appealing to a bunch of nineteen and twenty year olds. Skye rolls her eyes good-naturedly, but there is a small part of her that is still the little loser orphan Mary Sue who didn’t get invited to the cool kids’ parties and never got to play any of these stupid games and is secretly thrilled at getting to do it now.

It’s fun. Silly, but fun, laughing at all the random pairings the bottle chooses and people’s reactions. Trip’s spin lands on Skye and she grins as she leans across the circle to kiss him, lips gentle but dry. He winks at her and she laughs as she pulls away, and it’s  _fun_. No fireworks or electric shocks, but a good time with her friends.

And then she spins the bottle, and the universe proves once and for all that it truly has it in for her because it is pointing squarely at Ward.

Skye honestly feels like the world freezes for a moment as she stares at the bottle in horror. Looking up to meet Ward’s gaze doesn’t help her at all.

Everyone is staring at them expectantly now, but honestly, she can easily say screw it and walk away. No one is going to actually force her to kiss him because of a stupid game. But there is a challenging tilt to his jaw, and his smirk says he knows exactly what she’s thinking, and she so badly wants to wipe that smug look off his face. So she leans across the circle and grabs the front of his shirt in her fists and kisses him hard. His mouth falls open in surprise, and maybe something to do with the grunt of pain he lets out as her forehead connects with his, and her lips are already parting against his without any permission from the rest of her ( _okay, so maybe there are a few parts of her anatomy that agree with this decision_.)

His lips are softer than she imagined (and that’s a shock in and of itself, because  _how long has she been imagining his lips without realizing it?_ ) and his tongue is almost tentative as it brushes against her lower lip. She is screaming at herself to pull back, pull up, defuse this situation as quickly as she can. But somehow she is leaning in even more instead, her mouth opening wider against his as she strokes his tongue with her own. The shiver starts at her lips and works its way down to her toes, like she’s just been hit with a live wire. Like she’s just woken up.

When she pulls away, her skin feels tight and flushed and it’s hard to catch her breath. He is staring at her, his eyes half closed and his lips still slightly pouted, like he’s still stuck in their kiss. For just a second as he holds her gaze, it’s just the two of them.

And then the sounds of the party come roaring back into focus, their friends all hooting and whistling, and Skye blushes hotly as she quickly shuffles back to her place. Ward looks stunned, still staring at her, and it takes Trip shoving him in the shoulder to remind him that it’s his turn to spin the damned bottle. He visibly shakes himself, pulling the cocky smirk back on like a mask as he grips the bottle and sets it twirling on the floor. No one cheers louder than Bobbi when it lands on Hunter, who exaggeratedly winks at Ward before he crawls towards him on his hands and knees, hamming it up as only Hunter can. Ward plays along, grinning back at him before leaning in to kiss him loudly and theatrically. The room cheers and hollers, Bobbi clapping enthusiastically as she leans down to murmur to Skye, “Now there’s something I never knew I wanted.”

Skye manages a laugh at her friend’s lascivious wink, but her grin fades as soon as the blonde turns away. Her hands are shaking slightly when she looks at them, and she tucks them under her knees and out of sight. When she looks up again, Ward is staring straight back at her. That stunned look of confusion is still heavy in his features, and his eyes are dark with what she could swear is lust. She shivers and resolutely turns her gaze away.

She remains in her spot for another few rounds, barely aware of what is going on around her, her head still buzzing and her lips still burning, waiting until enough time has passed for her to slip away without a fuss. Jemma looks at her with concern though, and Skye knows she’s going to get the full inquisition later, but she’ll happily put that off as long as possible. She can feel Ward’s eyes on her as she leaves the room, but she doesn’t look back.

 

The next time Lincoln asks her out, she says yes.

He takes her out for sushi and he makes her laugh and he walks her to her door at kisses her goodnight so sweetly and she thinks maybe this is what she needs after all.

Lincoln is so undemanding and laidback and sweet that it takes her nearly a month of dating him to realize that she might actually like the  _idea_  of liking him more than she actually likes  _him_. She’s not quite sure what to do with that realization though, because honestly maybe this is just what a normal relationship is like? It’s not like she has a lot of experience there, her only other boyfriend was Miles and that wasn’t exactly a fun and casual kind of thing.

So she tries.

She becomes the girlfriend she thinks Lincoln deserves, the kind of light hearted college girl she used to dream of being with the cute, sweet boyfriend who holds her hand and brushes her hair out of her eyes. They watch movies together and eat bad takeout in his dorm room. She tags along with him to the University basketball games with his friends and she invites him to come bowling with hers. ( _And she ignores the part of her that whispers in the back of her mind that it shouldn’t have to feel so much like forcing pieces that just don’t fit._ )

It’s on one of those bowling nights with the group that she sees Ward stroll in with his arm around Bobbi’s friend Kara. The sight jars her, she didn’t know he was dating anyone, let alone someone who is, at least loosely, in their group of friends. She can’t figure out why it bothers her so much, and that in itself just irritates her even more. The others can definitely sense the shift in her mood, she can tell by the way they’re watching her, but she can’t seem to force herself back to her previously cheerful mood no matter how hard she tries. Every time she gets close, she catches a glimpse of Ward and Kara with their heads bent close together, sharing some private joke, her jaw clenches again.

Lincoln keeps trying to cheer her up, but she can tell he’s confused by the sudden whiplash with her mood. Hell, everyone seems a little confused. Skye is not generally one for bad moods, and when she does have them she is usually pretty easily talked out of them. Jemma is the only one who isn’t sending her questioning glances every few minutes and trying to crack jokes to break her out of the dark cloud surrounding her. In fact, her best friend looks entirely too knowing, and for that reason more than any other Skye finds herself avoiding meeting her gaze for the rest of the night.

Jemma corners her in the bathroom by the end of the night though, and she won’t let Skye avoid it any longer.

Skye stares at her friend is disbelief as she blocks the door with her body. “Jemma, let me out.”

“Not a chance. You clearly are having a problem, and as your best friend, it is my duty to help you solve it. So,” Jemma smiles like the Chesire Cat, “care to explain why you’ve dedicated yourself to sending Kara the laser death glare all evening?”

“I have not!” Skye insists. “I just didn’t realize that she was going to be here tonight.”

She pauses for a second before her pettiness takes over and she mutters snidely, “It’s not like she can even bowl anyway, so she’s just dragging the team down.”

Some part of her is aware of the fact that her sudden dislike of the other girl is completely irrational and a little insane considering that they have only really interacted a few times before this and Kara has been nothing but friendly to her.

“Oh, come on Skye,” Jemma says exasperatedly. “Does this really have anything to do with Kara at all? Or is it just because she and Ward are dating?”

“Please do not bring back your insane theory that I am secretly in love with Ward.” Skye rolls her eyes at her friend, but Jemma will not be deterred.

“Then why does it bother you so much that he’s dating someone else?”

“It doesn’t!” Skye insists vehemently. ( _She isn’t jealous. She isn’t jealous._  Maybe if she keeps repeating it to herself it will be true.)

“Right,” Jemma replies skeptically. “It’s just a complete coincidence that your mood took a nosedive when they walked in together.”

“I do  _not_  have a thing for Grant Ward, ok?” Skye grits out through clenched teeth, ignoring the part of her that knows that Jemma has a point. “It just took me by surprise, I didn’t know those two even really knew each other.”

She wants to ask how long they’ve been dating, but the look on Jemma’s face says that she is reading far too much into Skye’s words already and she doesn’t want to give her friend any more ammunition than she already has.

Jemma grumbles under her breath, “As if it isn’t inevitable that you two will end up hooking up in a janitor’s closet.”

“What was that?” Skye snaps.

“I said,” Jemma clears her throat and enunciates painfully precisely. “As if it isn’t inevitable that you two will end up having sex somewhere incredibly inconvenient. At least, maybe then, you will finally admit you feel something for him.”

“Oh, and you are so much better? I can think of a certain Scottish engineering major who you can’t seem to go three minutes without mentioning. But right, you’re not secretly in love with him either. His name is only like your favorite word.”

It’s true, although Skye immediately feels like a bitch for saying it. While Trip and Jemma both seem to have moved on from their Freshman year crush, she and Fitz are still stuck in their painful loop of dancing around the idea that they are actually in love with each other. Or at least Jemma is, sometimes Skye gets the idea that Fitz is well aware of his feelings.

Jemma’s lips thin as she glares at Skye, the hurt clear in her eyes. “This isn’t about me, Skye. This is about you and how your behavior doesn’t match your denials of perhaps caring more deeply for Ward than you want to admit. And I’m not the only one who has noticed it, so maybe you should think about how the way you’re acting is making your  _boyfriend_  feel.”

With that, she walks out the door, leaving Skye alone in the bathroom and feeling about as small as possible as the weight of how much she might have hurt Jemma, and Lincoln, settles over her.

She rejoins the group determined to get back her earlier cheerful mood and be the best girlfriend possible, but as Jemma’s words ring through her head her actions just feel hollow and artificial. The memory of the hurt look in Jemma’s eyes weighs heavily on her too, and she hates the idea that she hurt her best friend out of such a petty desire to turn the tables.

 

Lincoln is the one who ends things when all is said and done. He takes her out about a week after the bowling night fiasco and when they take a walk after the movie he calmly tells her that he knows that she doesn’t feel the same about him as he does about her and that it’s fine. He is just so damn nice about it all that it just makes Skye feel worse. He hugs her and smiles and tells her that it’s not her fault, that he knows she tried, that the heart just wants what it wants. He says he’ll be happy being her friend if that’s what she wants, if that’s what she can give right now.

It’s the nicest breakup she’s ever had and it makes her feel like a terrible person.

All she wants is her best friend. So even though they haven’t really spoken since their fight, she ends up at Jemma’s door with tears in her eyes, apologizing for the things she said that night at the bowling alley. Jemma accepts her apology and welcomes her in with open arms. When Skye tells her about the breakup, Jemma takes the high road and simply comforts her friend, doesn’t take the opportunity to point out how everyone can see it, but Skye.

And when Jemma tells her two weeks later that Ward and Kara broke up too she tells herself it doesn’t mean anything to her at all. That the relief she feels is more about Kara not being stuck with a pain in the ass like Ward, and nothing to do with that sharp twinge of something that Skye refuses to name that shot through her when she saw Ward’s arm around the other girl.


	3. Junior Year - part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween, tequila induced confessions and bonding over My Super Sweet 16

_“Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do”_

 

Skye honestly isn’t even that surprised when the person she screams at to hold the elevator as she charges through the lobby of her new dorm on move-in day Junior year turns out to be Ward. By this point it almost seems expected. The universe just has it out for her.

Neither of them speak as the car begins to rise, but when Skye looks up from her precarious armful of her laundry basket with two plastic storage boxes stacked on top, her eyes meet his in their distorted reflections on the elevator door. It isn’t until they both step out on the third floor that Skye realizes he never even asked what floor she was going to. Turning to look at him with a raised brow, he responds with a short laugh. “It’s inevitable at this point, right?”

Skye doesn’t know how to respond to that, Jemma’s words still reverberating in her memory, and so she just gives him an especially awkward head bob and a mumbled thanks when he straightens one of her boxes before it tumbles to the floor. He pauses awkwardly, looking like he’s on the verge of saying something else, before he turns and walks away instead. Skye stays where she is, standing in the middle of the hallway staring after him, trying to figure out exactly what this combination of emotions she is feeling are. She is jarred out of her introspection when someone clips her elbow with their stack of baskets and boxes and nearly dislodges her grip on her own.

Pulling herself together, Skye navigates her way around the crowd of newly arriving students and follows the room numbers down the hall until she locates the suite she’ll be sharing with Jemma, Bobbi, and Kara.

The suite consists of three rooms: two singles and a double, a private bathroom (with an actual bathtub that makes Skye squeal with joy) and a small common area which is essentially little more than a hallway, but they manage to squeeze in a narrow sofa and a tv alongside the mini-fridge and call it a living room. It’s cramped, but it feels like home. (And honestly, after living with Raina for a year, Skye is just happy to be able to go to sleep without worrying about waking up to find her roommate has shaved her head while she was unconscious.) There’s no kitchen in the room, but there is a fairly large common room on the floor with a kitchenette and lounge along with a pool table and few games, sofas, and a large tv.

After drawing straws Skye and Kara take the double room, while the other two each get a single.

At first the idea of sharing a room with Kara is a little unsettling for Skye. She is definitely better friends with Jemma and Bobbi, and she still can’t quite shake the lingering weirdness she feels from her reaction to Ward and Kara dating last year.

But Kara smiles at her warmly as she walks into the room and calls back over her shoulder that she’s calling the bed on the left side of the room and Skye feels kind of helpless to do anything but follow her in and begin arranging their room. Kara is just so determined to be friends that it’s hard to resist. She treats Skye to breakfast on their first weekend in the dorm, insistent that Skye must be introduced to the wonder that is peanut butter chocolate chip waffles. She’s always offering to loan Skye a scarf or the perfect pair of earrings to complete her outfit and saving her the last piece of pie. At first Skye is vaguely suspicious, because seriously who is actually  _that_  nice, but Kara keeps cracking jokes that are so perfectly Skye’s sense of humor, that Skye finds herself relaxing without even realizing it. Eventually, the two of them have a series of ridiculous in-jokes that leave even Bobbi and Jemma looking confused and vaguely horrified.

Honestly, the fact that Skye has yet to wake up to Kara taking notes on her while she sleeps would be enough for her to think she’s a great roommate. Everything else is just icing on top.

(And then there’s the night that Kara hugs her and admits she was nervous about the two of them living together, and how much she had wanted to be friends with Skye.  _“Grant always said that you and I would get along.”_  And just like that Skye is reminded of the elephant that occasionally hangs out in the corner of their friendship.)

With two years under her belt and a much more comfortable living situation, Skye settles into the new year easily. She knows where things are, what to expect, and has a great group of friends to lean on. A group that gets even bigger. She ends up in a class with Bobbi’s friend Mack. She knew him enough from group outings but never spent much time with him. But since he’s the only person she recognizes in the coding class, she’s really grateful for his warm smile and beckoning wave. Three classes into the new semester, he basically becomes the big brother she never had but always wanted. (She loves Fitz, but he’s not exactly big brother material. He’s more like the younger cousin she feels fiercely protective of. Which makes it interesting when he and Jemma  _finally_ start dating.)

Things with Skye and Ward feel different somehow this year too. They never acknowledge the game of Spin The Bottle or the weirdness that seemed to surround the end of the previous year. But somehow they have settled into a new phase of their friendship. They can actually spend an entire evening out with the group now without one of them making snarky comments that lead to a thinly veiled fight, and even on occasion hang out together in the common room. (Everyone feels the need to make a much bigger deal of this than is strictly necessary. They’re grown ups, they can act mature dammit.)

Of course then there is the game night where they are teamed up and they absolutely  _destroy_  everyone else, and there is something about the camaraderie that goes to Skye’s head. She makes Ward laugh, and somehow that becomes just as addictive to her as infuriating him used to be. He is still so much fun to rile up though, and she can’t help but dig at him a little when she has the chance, and throwing pretzels at him to break his concentration during their next game when they are back on opposing teams. He scowls at her, but she can see the smile twitching at the corner of his lips even as he tries to smother it and that only makes her own grin broader.

There is something almost vaguely flirty about their interactions as the night goes on, and that thought stops her cold mid-way through heckling him about his next move. A quick glance at Jemma’s giddy expression lets her know that her best friend at least has not missed that either. Skye tries to force herself back into their old dynamic, but it’s almost like now that she knows how to make Ward laugh, and that reluctant grin that breaks through as he shakes his head and tries to hide it, she can’t quite stop herself from trying to see it again. What’s even worse is that she finds it hot.  _He’s_ hot. All these years and her irritation with him had managed to block out the fact that he is objectively very attractive, but now it is hitting her all at once. Those goddamn cheekbones, and the fullness of his lower lip, and the way the light catches his eyes and they look like amber. It’s a little overwhelming and frankly annoying to have this sudden realization and she’s not quite sure what to do with it.

She avoids Jemma like the plague for the next few days. Not an easy feat when they live in the same small suite, but luckily Jemma is distracted enough by the newness of her thing with Fitz that Skye manages to get away with it.

(She notices Kara watching her appraisingly after the games night though. She doesn’t seem jealous or annoyed though, if anything it’s almost like something has just clicked into place for the other woman.)

 

Jemma insists the girls do matching costumes for Halloween, and they eventually settle on DC superheroes. Jemma is Supergirl (to Fitz’s Jimmy Olsen), Bobbi is the Black Canary in black jeans and a leather bustier and mask, Kara is Harley Quinn in red and black, her makeup a goth sneer, while Skye goes with Catwoman.

She was happy with her choice until actually picking out a costume, and then she began to rethink her idea.

"What am I going to wear though? I can't just go out and get a cat suit," Skye moans as she flops across her bed.

Kara suggests a few alternatives and Bobbi looks at her appraisingly from the doorway, then disappears for a moment before reappearing and throwing a small bundle of black leather at Skye.

"Here, wear this."

Shaking the garment out, Skye discovers it is a gorgeously detailed black leather corset, with boning and laces up the back and everything. It’s sexy as hell, and with the back laces there is even a chance that she might fit into it even if it’s Bobbi’s. Then the other shoe drops as she looks over to her friend curiously. "Bobbi,  _why_  do you have a leather corset?"

Bobbi shrugs as she sits down next to Kara on her bed, "Hunter got me that one for my birthday."

"This one? As in you have others?"

"Well yeah, I got one for his birthday too. That's the one I'm going to wear."

Kara makes a face and mock shudders, laughing as Bobbi swats at her playfully.

“It has been cleaned, thank you very much. At least try it on,” Bobbi insists.

Skye does, and it fits perfectly, and it looks amazing with her black skinny jeans and boots. She resolutely refuses to think about just what might have happened in this corset and finishes up her look with a black domino mask and a cat ear headband.

They are late arriving and the party is in full swing as they walk up the front steps. There are people spilling across the porch and out into the yard, and the music was audible as soon as they turned onto the block. Luckily everyone on the street seems to college students, and they all seem to be at the party too, so hopefully there won’t be a noise complaint.

Jemma and Fitz are lost to that unbearable but adorable new couple haze, and Bobbi peels off to track down Hunter, while Kara heads towards the kitchen in search of a drink. Skye is about to follow after her when she spots Ward off to the side of the living room talking to a few guys she recognizes in that hazy ‘I’ve walked past you at least once a week for the past two years but I have no idea what your name is’ kind of way. Ward spots her and waves though, so she heads over to him.

His costume is possibly one of the most half-assed she has ever seen, he’s dressed in his regular jeans and a black henley, with a wolf nose attached to his face.

Skye sidles towards him, shaking her head as she laughs. “The big bad wolf, Ward? Seriously?”

Ward just smirks in response as he leans in close to be heard over the music. “My, what big eyes you have, little girl.”

He laughs and shakes his head at his own terrible joke but Skye barely even hears his words, a shiver running down her spine and pooling into heat, low in her belly, as his breath brushes against her skin and the warmth of his body momentarily pressing hers against the wall.

And just as suddenly as he leaned in, he’s pulling back. Ward grins as he walks away, completely oblivious to the effect he has had on her. The warmth of his breath against her jaw has left her stunned, and all she can think of is the way she can still feel the way his lips felt on hers, all these months later. She can’t escape the way her hormones are suddenly screaming at her that maybe Jemma has always been right and pushing him against the wall or into a convenient closet and finally fucking it out of their systems is a brilliant idea. Skye groans and rubs the heel of her palms against her eyes roughly as she tries to push that insane thought out of her head.

Tequila. Tequila is always the answer.

(Tequila was a terrible idea. She has a vague memory of dancing on a table with Kara, a flash of stumbling home with Ward holding her up, and a terrifying feeling that she revealed a lot more about her sudden new confusing feelings of attraction than she wanted to.)

When she wakes in the morning, her head pounding and her mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton, she can’t remember exactly what she said to him though. She has a faint impression of his lips brushing against her hair as he helped her up the stairs, and she feels like there is something important that she’s missing.

She does her best to avoid him in the week after Halloween, but then when she is finally forced into close quarters with him, he is so aggravatingly normal that she starts wondering if that horrifying shadow of a memory of commenting on the magnificence of his cheekbones really was just some tequila induced hallucination. Gradually she relaxes around Ward, but every now and then she swears she catches him watching her appraisingly from the corner of her eye. Whenever she turns to face him fully though, his gaze is always turned away, and eventually she convinces herself it’s all in her head.

 

Skye spends Thanksgiving with Jemma and Fitz, since they don’t bother flying all the way home for a holiday their country doesn’t even celebrate. But for Christmas she is alone in the dorm. She knows that she could have tagged along with one of the others, but she doesn’t really think she’d feel comfortable intruding on either Kara or Bobbi’s families and flying all the way to the UK to spend the holiday with Jemma is a little out of her budget. She’s fine with spending the break by herself though. Christmas has never meant a lot without a family anyway, and there is something kind of cool about being in the dorm when it is almost a ghost town. Also, with barely anyone else around, she is always guaranteed a machine in the laundry room at any time of the day.

She’s sprawled across one of the benches at 10 o’clock at night, the day after everyone else has left, munching on a plate of microwave nachos and reading the increasingly ridiculous flyers on the notice board while she waits for the spin cycle to finish. She is snickering at one of them ( _“Whoever keeps stealing panties from the dryers PLEASE STOP (and bring them back!!)”_ ), when Ward walks into the laundry room with an overflowing basket.

The two of them freeze as they notice each other, both startled by the appearance of another human being, after thinking they were alone on the floor. After a long pause, Ward makes his way towards the washing machines and loads his clothes in before adding detergent and starting the cycle without saying a word.

“Shouldn’t you be spending the break with your loving family?” Skye finally asks him, curiosity winning out as she attempts to move from her position of lying draped across the table into something moderately more dignified.

Ward freezes at her words, silent for so long that she almost thinks he might ignore her, which is ridiculous after all the strides they have made toward being cordial and practically friendly this year. But then he turns to face her, and she can see him carefully weighing his words before he responds.

“My loving family and I agreed that some time apart was probably the better move,” he finally replies, his tone brusquely matter of fact as he comes to lean against the bench beside her. “What about you?”

“No family, loving or otherwise,” Skye reminds him, her tone carefully flippant. She can feel Ward’s gaze on her, but she refuses to turn to face his pity. She shrugs finally. “It is what it is.”

When she does eventually risk a peek at him over her shoulder, there is no pity in his expression after all, just a heavy look of understanding. The two of them remain silent for a long moment, the hum of the washing machines in the background the only sound in the room. As the silence stretches toward the boundaries of awkward, Skye picks up her abandoned nachos and puts the plate between the two of them, waving her hand toward him encouragingly. Ward hesitates for a moment before he boosts himself up onto the bench beside her and grabs a handful.

“So,” Skye says, nodding her head toward the bulletin board. “You got any theories on who the underwear bandit might be?”

After that it becomes a lot harder for Skye to tell herself that they aren’t friends, rather than just people who put up with each other for everyone else’s sake, even though she’s still not entirely sure that she can pinpoint exactly when that happened. They spend the rest of the break playing Battleship in the common room and watching marathons of terrible reality tv. Ward continuously swears he will stab himself in the eye with a spork if he has to watch another bored housewife throw a tantrum, or an obscenely rich 16 year old complain that there aren’t enough diamonds on her tiara or something equally ridiculous. But somehow, despite his protests, he is always back on the sofa beside her the next day.

They have Christmas dinner together at the one diner in town that is open. The turkey is dry and the gravy is congealed and there is a sad little plastic Christmas tree on their table. The only other people in the place are two depressed and recently divorced looking men each sitting alone at the counter and the waitress who keeps sighing as she stares at the clock. Even though she knows that it should probably be depressing, when she looks across the table at Ward, Skye can’t help but think that it is the best Christmas she’s ever had.


	4. Junior year - part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Kara and Skye bonding, Scavenger Hunt shenanigans and a few sudden realizations

_“Do I wanna know? (If this feeling flows both ways?)”_

 

“Ugh,” Skye groans loudly as she collapses face first onto her bed after stomping into her and Kara’s room.

“What’s wrong?” Kara asks, her tone a combination of concern and amusement at Skye’s melodramatic entrance.

Pulling herself up onto her elbows to look at Kara, Skye declares flatly, “Grant Ward is the devil.”

“What did he do now?” Kara is definitely laughing at her now.

“He’s hanging out with Lincoln!” Skye snaps, still horrified at the image of seeing the two of them laughing together. They had been standing on the steps of the student union, hands clapped on each others shoulders like they were old friends as Skye stood frozen at the sight of them. Aside from the few times that she’d brought Lincoln along on group outings when they were dating, the two of them have never had anything to do with each other as far as she knew. Ward never seemed to be a fan of Lincoln’s back then, but you’d never know that by the way they looked today. And then, as Skye stared at the odd pair and tried to wrap her mind around it, Ward looked up at met her eye. The bastard even had the nerve to wink at her as he smirked at her clear confusion.

“Wow,” Kara deadpans. “That  _is_  diabolical.”

“It is,” Skye insists. “What possible reason could he have for seeking him out but to torture me?”

When Kara just raises her eyebrows at her, Skye realizes how self-centered she sounds. “Ok, I get it. But seriously, what do they even have in common?”

Since she and Lincoln broke up last year they have paid lip service to their promise to stay friends, but there has always been that shadow of guilt for the way she treated him that has kept Skye from feeling truly comfortable around him. So she supposes she honestly has no idea what he and Ward might actually have in common, since she doesn’t really know that much about his day to day life these days.

“It’s just weird, ok?” Skye maintains.

“Well,” Kara says, turning back to her laptop. “You and I are friends.”

“That’s totally different,” Skye splutters at her roommate indignantly.

“Why?” Kara asks her, glancing back towards her with genuine curiosity.

“Because...you and I are roommates, and we met through Bobbi and...it just is,” Skye declares, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. She and Kara might not have been especially close before, but since living together the other girl has quickly become one of Skye’s favorite people. But there is something about thinking about Kara and Ward dating that still makes Skye feel off-kilter in a way that she really doesn’t like to examine too closely.

“Ok,” Kara says, closing her laptop and turning to face her with a suddenly serious expression. “You and I have never really talked about this. The whole Grant thing.”

Skye develops a sudden fascination with her fingernails.

“Hey,” Kara reaches over to tap Skye’s foot until she meets her eye again. “Whatever happens, I promise it’s not gonna be a problem between you and me. I knew going into it with Grant that you were a factor.”

Skye protests, but Kara just levels her with a look of exasperated patience.

“It’s not...it’s nothing,” Skye insists, because she is honestly unsure how on earth she could explain her and Ward, and trying to figure it out with one of her best friends who also happens to be his ex makes a root canal sound appealing.

“Babe,” Kara grins at her. “I remember the two of you in Coulson’s Sociology class in freshman year. It’s not nothing.”

Skye gapes at her friend in confusion. “You were in that class?” she asks, dumbfounded. “How on Earth did I not know that?”

“Maybe because you never paid attention to anything other than a certain tall, dark, and handsome smug jackass?” Kara asks, grinning as she ducks the pillow Skye throws at her. “I was also there when you two kissed.”

“That was just a stupid game,” Skye protests. “Thirteen year olds play it for chrissake.”

“Uh-huh,” Kara says flatly.

“It’s really weird that you are so intent on getting me to reveal I have some deep hidden longing for your ex,” Skye finally exclaims defensively.

“It’s really weird that you’re still denying that you do,” Kara replies flippantly, before continuing with a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “And besides, it’s not like I haven’t moved on anyway.”

“Wait, what?!” Skye yelps, sitting up with a grin on her face. “Who?”

Kara is definitely blushing now, and Skye is positively gleeful at the way the tables have turned.

“Trip,” she finally admits.

“Are you serious?” Skye demands, her grin nearly splitting her cheeks now. “Tell me  _everything_.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Kara insists, to which Skye rolls her eyes. “Fine, there has been some...flirtation. There is an interest that is definitely not unrequited.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know,” Kara admits. “We seem to be stuck in some kind of holding pattern. I don’t know if he feels weird about the fact I used to date Grant-”

“Understandable,” Skye cuts in wryly, to which Kara responds with a glare before continuing.

“-or what the problem is exactly. But Grant doesn’t have an issue with it so I don’t see why Trip should.”

“Wait,” Skye interrupts again. “You’ve actually talked to Ward about this?”

“He’s one of my best friends,” Kara reminds her with an eye roll. “That’s probably all we ever should have been honestly, but we were both lonely and thought we owed it to ourselves to see if there was something else there.”

Skye doesn’t know quite how to respond to that, her attempt at a relationship with Lincoln is still a sore spot for her and she can’t quite shake off the guilt that she might have only used him to escape from something she wasn’t ready to face head on. Shaking herself out of it before she can spiral any further, Skye side-eyes her friend and asks semi-jokingly. “So, what you’re basically saying is that you’re trying to get me and Ward together so you and Trip have a clear path?”

“No,” Kara replies indignantly, tossing the pillow Skye threw earlier back at her. “I am trying to make you and Grant stop being such stubborn idiots because you’re both my friends and I want you to be happy. Trip and I are an entirely separate thing.”

“Jeez,” Skye wrinkles her nose. “This group is so incestuous.”

“Well,” Kara replies consideringly. “It’s kind of just us, really. Mack seems to do fine on his own, Jemma and Fitz have essentially always been a couple, and Bobbi and Hunter both go outside the family when they want to make each other jealous.”

“Gross.”

“Hey, you’re the one that started the metaphor,” Kara reminds her with a laugh.

Later, after the lights are out and she can hear Kara’s breathing even out as she sleeps, Skye is still lying awake and staring at the shadows on the ceiling. Kara’s words are ticking through her head and she can’t quiet down her mind enough to sleep.

As much as she might brush off everyone else’s comments, Skye is not oblivious to this  _thing_  between her and Ward. Somewhere along the way she went from finding him to be the most obnoxious person she’d ever met, to being grudging friends, to being one of her best friends. A best friend whose cheekbones she wants to lick on occasion when she’s had too much to drink.

It has only gotten worse since Halloween. She is well aware that the sharp rush of desire that runs through her in those moments, when she’s feeling the warm buzz of alcohol loosening her inhibitions, when he stands too close for just a moment too long and his skin brushes along hers and sends a shiver through her, is not a normal  _friend_  reaction. But she still isn’t sure how much of the way she reacts is due to the fact that it’s usually when she’s a little tipsy and he is a very attractive and nicely firm male specimen, and it’s been awhile since she’s really felt sexually satisfied. Making a move, without knowing exactly what her feelings really are,  _without knowing what his feelings are_ , just seems way too much of a risk. He has never honestly given her any indication that he wants anything more from her, no matter what Jemma and Kara have implied. And she isn’t even sure at this point whether she honestly would rather if her attraction was mutual or not. What would happen if they did try something and it ruined everything about their friendship? He is tangled in every part of her life now: he lives down the hall, all of her friends are his friends too, and she honestly can’t even imagine trying to go through her day without talking to him anymore. There is too much she stands to lose. So she settles with the comfortable, keeping his friendship and ignoring the way she also flushes when he stands too close when she’s sober too, choosing not to think too much about it.

( _Just like she chooses to pretend it isn’t his face that flickers through her mind when she has a moment of privacy with her fingers sliding down between her thighs._ )

 

Bobbi is the one that convinces them all that they have to take part in the crazy scavenger hunt that one of the student clubs is hosting. It’s open to all students and there is a cash prize of $500, but mostly it’s just knowing the ridiculousness of past lists that inspires them to sign up. The teams can only consist of up to five people though, so the group gets split. They end up squabbling so much over who goes where that Mack finally breaks it up with a shrill whistle. “Ok, gym class rules, we’re picking teams.”

They draw straws for captains, and end up with Trip and Hunter in charge. Hunter picks Bobbi first, to the surprise of absolutely no one. Trip goes with Kara, and Skye makes kissy faces at her friend behind everyone else’s backs until Kara pinches her. It’s Hunter’s turn to pick again, but he and Bobbi seem to be disagreeing about just who their second round draft should be. Bobbi is voting Skye, while Hunter is loudly making a case for Ward.

Their argument goes on so long and gets so ridiculous that Mack finally stands up and, gently, shoves both Skye and Ward in the direction of the bickering couple and pulling Fitz and Jemma toward the others. "You take both of them and FitzSimmons and I will go with these two. Y'all can drive each other up the wall. Better not to curse the rest of us with that."

Skye glances over at the other team with a faint tinge of desperation and a little betrayal as Bobbi and Hunter’s disagreement has now devolved into some kind of argument over the fact that Bobbi doesn’t think Hunter is a capable decision maker.

“Because you’re not!” Bobbi hisses at him. “Have you forgotten the time-”

“Enough,” Ward cuts in exasperatedly, nodding to where the other team is making their way to the door. “The others are already leaving. Are we doing this or not?”

The bickering pair seem to snap out of it as they remember the fact that they have an audience, and Skye groans to herself as she thinks of the night she has ahead of her, being stuck in a car with the pair of them. Ward looks just as unimpressed with the idea as she is, but then he turns to her with a look of commiseration and Skye feels a little better about the fact that at least she has him to roll her eyes at when Bobbi and Hunter get ridiculous.

“Right,” Bobbi says, pulling herself together. “So we just have to text in our team confirmation, and they’ll send us the full list when the scavenger hunt officially starts at eight.”

Ward is elected to be the driver, and they are waiting in the parking lot when the list is sent to Bobbi’s phone. They have four hours to complete as many items on the list as possible, texting photo proof of each item to the group running the hunt, and the final scores are tallied at midnight. The items run from small (three dandelions for 1 point) to the bizarre (swap pants with a stranger for 10 points) to the permanent (get a math equation tattoo for 20 points).

“It doesn’t even have to be that big, Bobbi!” Hunter explains. “It could just be 2+3=5.”

“There is no way that is happening,” Bobbi insists.

“It’s 20 points!” Hunter protests.

Skye pipes up from the backseat. “I vote he gets the ‘u+me=us’ from the MTV boy band.”

“Not helping, Skye,” Ward and Bobbi reply in unison.

“Come on, Bob. It’s my body, not yours, anyway,” he argues.

“Well, if you ever want my body nears yours again, then the answer is NO.” Bobbi’s declaration is firm and leaves no room for further argument.

Hunter grumbles under his breath, but gives in.

“Damn, I really wanted to see him get tatted up,” Skye pouts.

Ward looks at her in the rearview mirror with that annoyed, droll look he gets. “Can you not?”

“Oh, but I can.” Skye never turns down a chance to get under his skin. She slides forward on the seat, just behind Ward, before poking him right behind the ear.

Ward jumps violently. “HEY!”

“Oooh, look at that! The robot is ticklish!” Skye crows. “I am so going to use that again!”

“Um, guys?” Hunter breaks in. “How about we don’t crash the car and continue on to the next stop? Since the tattoo parlor is off the table, we’ll have to make up the points elsewhere.” His side eye at Bobbi is vicious, but she just rolls her eyes.

From there, they strategize which big point tasks they are willing to do and plot out a course.

They have a shopping cart race that nearly results in serious injury, Hunter has to buy condoms and pay only in pennies, they all posed for a group selfie in a dollar store wearing as many costume items as they could put on at once. Then there was the team train on the slide in the playground, and Skye ending up stuck halfway over a fence with a lawn flamingo clutched in her arms while a guard dog barked rabidly at her from the ground. (They get 3 points per flamingo and so far they’ve managed to find four of the things.)

They are competing against at least two dozen other teams, but honestly the only people they really care about beating are their friends. The feeling appears to be mutual, and both teams spend almost as much time sending each other bragging texts as they do actually sending their photo proof of each completed task.

Kara sends them a photo of Trip getting a piggyback from a cop (15 points), which brings out Ward and Hunter’s competitive sides and the next thing Skye knows, the two of them are hanging off the shoulders of the statue of the university’s founder, eight feet off the ground. (10 points.)

Bobbi makes a comment about Ward’s arms, so Hunter starts doing pull ups with an exaggerated vigor. Ward’s rare humor makes an appearance and soon the two of them are trash talking each other as they compete. Skye is in hysterics by the time the campus security guard appears, sounding completely exasperated as he tells the boys to get the hell down from there. Bobbi quickly snaps the picture on her phone and the boys clamber down hurriedly before they all run across the quad with Skye still laughing so hard that Ward has to drag her along behind him.

Thirty minutes later, Bobbi is on Hunter’s shoulders, creatively altering a street sign with black tape to make it dirty (5 points), while Skye and Ward are on lookout duty.

“So,” she begins, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “How long have you and Lincoln been hanging out?”

Ward smirks and the urge to hit him is strong.

“Why?” he asks. “Does the idea of us being friends really bother you that much?”

_Yes,_  she thinks but manages not to say aloud.

Ward must see something in her expression though because he graces her with a look that clearly implies that he thinks she’s acting like a two-year old. “He’s a good guy, why should there be a problem?”

“I just didn’t think you two would have much in common.” Skye replies, resolutely looking down the street for any cars coming toward them and not at him. She knows she sounds a little petulant, and that her weirdness about this whole thing is unnecessary, but she can’t help it.

Ward is silent for a moment, then says, his voice quiet but matter of fact. “Guess we do.”

There is something in his tone that catches Skye’s attention, and she turns back to try and read his expression but he has already turned away to help Bobbi and Hunter and the moment is gone.

 

“It’s thirteen points!”

“It is freezing cold,” Ward counters. “And you want me to jump in the fountain fully clothed?”

“Come on, Ward,” Skye wheedles. “It’s almost midnight, we need to get whatever points we can. We can head back to the dorm after this and change right away.”

“It doesn’t technically say we have to be fully clothed,” Hunter points out.

“That doesn’t actually make it sound any more enticing, Hunter.”

“It’s a quarter to midnight, we’re here, so let’s just do it and get it over with,” Bobbi breaks in, her tone resigned.

Hunter strips down to his tighty whiteys (which is a lot more than Skye ever needed to know about Hunter), and Ward is in black boxer briefs and a frown, while Skye and Bobbi are both in their underwear and shirts when they all jump into the fountain.

Skye ducks down to fully submerge herself and comes out of the water gasping in the cold, her wet shirt clinging to her skin. And of course, because the universe once again has it out for her, she turns and collides directly with Ward’s bare chest. Her hands come up to steady herself, but the feel of that much wet, muscled skin under her fingers does nothing to help her regain her equilibrium. She takes a step back and slips, starting to fall back into the water and is saved only by Ward’s firm grip on her forearms.

She tries to look away, at anything other than the large expanse of nearly naked Ward that is suddenly practically pressed against her. Unfortunately, glancing to her left gives her an eyeful of Hunter’s now see through tighty whiteys as he and Bobbi splash each other, so she quickly swivels her head back towards Ward.

His face is so close to hers that she can feel his breath on her chilled skin and count each one of his eyelashes as his eyes flick down to her chest. Her flannel shirt is long enough to cover the tops of her thighs, but the soaked fabric is clinging to every curve of her body and hiding absolutely nothing. For a second they remain frozen, and Skye has a fleeting thought that he might lean in to close the distance between them and press his lips against hers. ( _And even crazier is the way she holds her breath and wishes that he would._ )

But then he’s pulling away, his face as unreadable as ever and Skye is left alone to try and calm her suddenly racing pulse and figure out if that moment was entirely in her head or if Ward actually almost kissed her as he wades over to the edge of the fountain to grab his phone. The four of them squish in close to take their selfie proof of completing the task, and Skye feels her breath hitch again as Ward’s bare chest is pressed against her back.

Skye is shivering wildly as she clambers out of the fountain and tries to wrestle her wet legs into dry jeans. Ward glances over and takes pity on her, holding out his dry T-shirt for her to wear so she can at least ditch her soaked one.

She tries to protest, but it’s halfhearted at best since she’s already grabbing out of his hands. Ward has already turned away to grab his hoodie from the car anyway, so Skye ducks behind the open back door for a shield as she peels her wet shirt off and replaces it with Ward’s. It is huge on her, but the light grey cotton is somehow the softest thing she has ever felt against her skin. She ignores the kissy face Hunter makes at her when he notices the clothing arrangement, snuggling into the soft fabric and tucking her nose into her shoulder to sniff at it. ( _It smells like him. Like he is wrapped around her,_  she thinks with a shiver.)

 

They decide not to bother going back to the dorms and changing before they meet up with the others again to wait for all the points to be counted, which of course leads to shrewd looks from Jemma and comments from Kara.

"Skyyyyye," Kara asks suggestively, waggling her eyebrows in comically. "Why is your hair wet and you're wearing Grant's shirt? Do I want to know what you've been up to?"

Skye’s mouth is open to quip back something about the fact that Kara smells an awful lot like Trip’s cologne, when she feels Ward’s arm sling around her shoulder and tuck her in tightly to his side as he turns to Kara with a surprising conspiratorial grin.

"What we get up to on our time in none of your business," he winks at Kara. "Plus, why am I noticing Trip sporting some suspiciously glittery pink lip gloss?"

Skye feels torn between surprise at the rare glimpse of Ward’s humor, and the intense desire she has to burrow deeper into his arms. It’s like the shirt but ten times worse, and now she has an audience. She pulls herself away from him with a surprising degree of reluctance, and flops down on the sofa beside Kara as both groups recount their adventures from the night.

When the final scores finally come in Skye, Ward, Hunter, and Bobbi place 13th out of the two dozen teams, and the others come in third place. Fitz and Simmons are incredibly smug winners it seems, as the entire team invents some ridiculously complicated victory dance while Skye and Hunter heckle them.

(When Trip picks Kara up and kisses her in the midst of the celebration, spinning around with his arms around her waist and her feet off the ground, everyone freezes into shocked silence. Well, everyone aside from Skye, who wolf whistles loudly, and Ward, who just smiles at the pair.)

It’s late, she’s exhausted and watching her best friends perform ridiculous dance moves, and her wet underwear under dry jeans combo is proving to be uncomfortable enough that she wishes they had bothered taking the extra time to swing by the dorms and change, but Skye feels giddy and happy and she wishes there were a way to bottle moments like this, to freeze them forever and carry them with you.

She thinks back to her days in St. Agnes, how easy it would have been for her to drop out of school, run away, stop hoping that someone would choose her and that she’d have somewhere to belong.

But she stuck it out, even though she was the oldest one there, the lifer, and she worked her butt off to get a scholarship. She used to think that if she could do well enough, become a big shot, then it would show all the families who didn’t want her just how amazing she really was. Show them just what they sent back. Show her real parents just what they gave up.

Somehow along the way she found a family of her own, without even meaning to in the end, after all those years of trying. People who love her, who care about her. Who watch trashy reality tv shows with her and make her laugh at their surprisingly good impressions of her favorites. Who make her lopsided birthday cakes and wake her up at 2am to watch meteor showers. People that she wouldn’t give up for the world.

 


	5. Senior year - part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Bobbi are beer pong champs, Kara and Trip have their first date, and Ward has a rough night and Skye tries to cheer him up, which leads to things between the two of them changing forever.

_“(Baby we both know) That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day”_

  
Everything changes in the fall of their senior year.

They’re at a party, too many people crowded into a frat house basement that smells vaguely of stale beer and feet, and everyone is cheering as Bobbi and Jemma decimate a pair of dudebros at beer pong. Everyone but Ward, who is lingering at the edges of the room, the dark cloud around him like a forcefield that keeps anyone from getting close.

Kara would notice it if she was here, and so would Trip probably, but the two of them opted out of the party in favor of an actual private date. As it is, Skye is the only one who seems aware of Ward’s mood. Or at least the only one who notices  _and_  is comfortable enough with him to brave the very clear ‘stay away’ vibes his posture sends out. There is an actual four foot perimeter around him, Skye notices as she gets closer to him, everyone else apparently too intimidated by his glower to stand within his vicinity. She can faintly remember when it would have given her pause too, but now it has no effect on her at all as she forces her way into his personal space.

“What’s going on, Robot?” she asks him as she approaches, her tone light as she tries to make him smile. “You’re scaring people over here.”

It’s subtle, but she could swear she sees him flinch at her words as he quickly glances at the people around them, all keeping their distance so carefully.

“Ward,” she says, stepping closer and reaching out to touch his shoulder, her tone softening as she takes in how serious his mood seems to be. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

He’s silent for another long moment, but he doesn’t shake off her hand. If anything, he seems to lean into her touch as his eyes close.

“My older brother announced his run for Senator today,” he finally mutters, opening his eyes again but still not meeting her gaze.

Ward has never been incredibly open about his family, but he’s given Skye enough pieces here and there that she knows it’s more than a sore spot for him. Her expression softens in sympathy as she looks around the room, everyone laughing and drunk and too loud, and she realizes just how wrong this place is for him right now.

“You want to get out of here?” she offers, her hand giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “I have a bottle of tequila back at the dorm.”

Ward hesitates for a second, and she’s sure he’s going to turn her down, but then at the last moment something in his expression changes and he nods in agreement.

They split up when they get back to their floor: Skye to get the tequila from her room and Ward heading for his room since they’ll actually have some chance at privacy there.

As she grabs the bottle from under her bed, Skye feels a moment of hesitation. Somehow, something about this feels like a night that will change things between them and she is caught somewhere between anticipation and terror. She shakes her head. Ward is one of her closest friends, maybe even her  _best_  friend at this point, and he needs her support. That’s all there is to it, she stubbornly insists and ignores the voice that whispers she’s a liar.

She doesn’t bother knocking when she gets to his door since he’s expecting her, just walks right in. Ward is sitting on his bed with his elbows resting on his knees and staring down at his hands. He looks up, startled, when she enters the room and for just a moment Skye wishes she  _had_  knocked. He looks so vulnerable, in a way she has never seen him before, and something about it feels almost like she’s intruding. But his expression clears a little as he takes her in, something of the lost boy in his expression being replaced by a different kind of longing.

It’s gone before she can really try to examine it though as he stands up and walks over to his desk, rummaging through the drawer and emerging with a pair of shot glasses, holding them up for her approval.

Skye nods and takes the glasses from him. She pours the shots in silence and they down them without a word. His eyes stay on hers the entire time though.

Rather than pour them a second shot, Skye turns to face him fully and finally speaks. “Did you want to talk about it?”

Ward sighs heavily as he turns and walks over to the bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress again and looks up at her, his face a storm of emotion. He is always so good at closing himself off, not letting people see anything other than the emotionless mask he wants to show them. A part of her still marvels at the fact that she is somehow the person he allows to see this side of him.

Putting the bottle of tequila down on the desk, Skye walks over to join him on the bed as he finally speaks.

“It’s just hard, being reminded of my family,” he tells her. “I think a part of me thought I’d never be free of them, and then I came here and I met you guys and I was. I was  _free_ , and I could be my own person and the things they did didn’t mean anything anymore.”

His jaw clenches as he meets her gaze and then quickly looks away. Their stories couldn’t be more different, but Skye knows just what he means about the way they have formed their own family here, and the way it can feel like salvation. Before she can say anything though, he continues, his voice tight like he’s holding onto himself by a tether.

“My older brother...my parents,” he hesitates, his fear of rejection clear in his features and it tugs at her heart. “They were...they weren’t good people. And they tried to make me just like them.”

Scooting closer to him, Skye tentatively reaches out to rest her hand on his knee. “Well, they failed.”

Ward scoffs a little in response, his gaze still averted from hers. Reaching out to grip his chin in her hand, Skye pulls his face back to hers. “I mean it, Grant. You are one of the best people I know. It doesn’t matter what your family tried to turn you into, they failed.”

The look in his eyes is so open it  _hurts_. Because she knows exactly how it feels to walk around with that open wound inside yourself, constantly bleeding but unable to show anyone just how vulnerable and weak you really are. Knows what it’s like to feel betrayed by your own blood. All her life she looked at families like his with the big house and siblings and two parents who never left, and she longed for that dream. But now she can see that his childhood hollowed him out the exact same way that her lonely years in the orphanage did to her.

She can’t say for sure which one of them leans in first, she wasn’t even aware of the distance between them closing until she feels his lips on hers. He tastes like tequila and desire, his hands threading in her hair as he pulls her closer. Her own hands slide up to grip his shoulders as she sprawls across his lap without even realizing she moved, and he groans into her mouth as she settles her weight against him. The alcohol serves as little more than a spark for the lust that is burning through her, her need for him striking her hard and fast as her fingernails dig into his skin and her tongue slips into his mouth.

She whimpers when he pulls away to catch his breath, and the look in his eyes is awestruck and utterly destroyed as he gazes at her through heavy lidded eyes. She feels drunk on the lust in his eyes, the tequila is nothing compared to heady rush his desire sends through her.

She leans in to kiss him again, her tongue brushing against his and dragging a ragged groan from deep in his chest that only has her wanting more. The taste of him is sharply familiar, the memory of Spin The Bottle all that time ago washing over her as her teeth graze his lower lip. Jemma was right, she thinks distantly, this was inevitable. There has always been something about Grant Ward that has drawn her in, some undeniable spark between them that stubbornly refused to fade no matter how much she tried to ignore it. And in this moment, with his mouth on hers, hot and demanding, she can’t for the life of her understand why she tried to fight this for so long. His hands clench hard in her hair, somewhere just short of painful, before releasing and sliding down her shoulders to rest at the small of her back, pulling her hips hard against the growing bulge in his jeans.

Her breath catches as his lips leave hers and he presses open-mouthed kisses against the curve of her jaw, tilting her head to the side to grant him access. She moans, the sound half swallowed by the hitch in her chest as his teeth scrape against the pulse point below her ear, and she can feel him growl against her skin in response. There is a feeling of sweetness mixed with the barely restrained fierceness in both of them in every touch between them, a wildness that burns in her blood that she has never given in to before that has her nails digging into his muscles sharply. His teeth nip at her clavicle and she shudders against him, feeling another rush of heat pool between her thighs.

His breath is harsh on her skin as he tries to collect himself, his hands moving down to grip the hem of her sweater before he pulls back to catch her eye, a clear question in his gaze. Skye nods shakily in response, a part of her apprehensive at how fast things are moving between them but also totally unwilling to wait another moment to feel his skin against hers. He hesitates for just a moment before he begins to slide her sweater up, his eyes never leaving hers until their gaze is broken by the fabric obscuring her face. Once her shirt has been tossed onto the floor, Skye smirks at the way that Ward’s eyes immediately drop to her breasts. His hands ghost along her ribcage, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, sliding across to cup her breasts lightly, his thumbs brushing over her nipples through the lace cups and causing them pucker into taut peaks. Her eyes slide shut as he continues to play with her breasts, her head falling back with a moan of pleasure as he ducks down to draw one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue hot against the tender flesh through the rough lace barrier.

Pulling away with a sigh, Skye tugs impatiently at his shirt, and his arms lift obligingly to help her pull it over his head. Once it’s off and his chest is bare, Skye can totally understand his ogling when her shirt came off earlier. There is so much bare skin and muscled flesh on display and she can’t stop staring. It’s like that night in the fountain all over again,  _only this time she can touch._

Her hands move to his chest without any clear conscious thought on her behalf, the need to feel his skin under her fingers overwhelming. He growls as her fingernails scrape over his nipple, and the sound has her grinding her hips against his roughly, sparks exploding behind her eyelids at the feel of him hard against her through the layers of clothing. It’s not enough though, she needs so much more of him. He seems happy to oblige her, standing up with her still wrapped around him and turning to lay her down on the bed before crawling over her. Her head spins a little at the sudden movement, a reminder of the tequila, quickly forgotten again as he leans down to kiss her, his body hovering over hers but just torturously out of reach and she whines as she draws her knees up and tries to wrap them around his waist to pull him hard against her. He chuckles against her mouth as he pulls away before she can get a solid grip, and she nips at his lip in response.

He begins to work his way down her body, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake, a burning path that has her breath coming harshly as her hands clench in his hair. He pauses at her waistband, his eyes meeting hers in silent question and she replies by pushing him away to pop the button and tug the zip down herself, shoving her jeans down over her hips roughly. He takes over with a grin at her impatience, sliding them down her thighs and over her knees, stopping to deal with her shoes before tugging her jeans completely off.

There is a brief moment of self-consciousness at the realization that she is lying in front of one of her best friends in only her underwear, but the clear lust in Ward’s gaze as he drinks in the sight of her is enough to push it aside. He leans down to kiss her against the soft skin of her stomach and then moves lower and Skye feels a rush of dampness pool in her underwear as his breath brushes against her inner thighs, his eyes dark and hot as they meet hers, his fingers hooking into the sides of her underwear and tugging them down. He groans at the sight of her uncovered, breathing harshly as he ducks his head down to taste her, before he reaches down to grip her left leg behind the knee, pulling it over his shoulder as he sinks down onto the mattress between her thighs. Skye’s hands are tight in his hair as his tongue works over her, building a fever in her blood that has her crying out and her thighs clamping tight around his head. His mouth closes around her clit, a rough kiss that has colors bursting across her vision as he sucks hard on the sensitive nub.

He has to actually pry her thighs away from the sides of his head, her muscles refusing to obey her as she shudders through the aftershocks of her orgasm. The smug grin on his face would ordinarily be enough to have her throwing things at him, but in this case she just feels like giving him a gold star instead. He earned it. Good lord, the things he can do with that mouth.

She shivers again as his fingers trail along her rib cage, his body sliding back up hers as he leans in to kiss the corner of her lips so delicately. She turns into the kiss, deepening it as her hands slide across his shoulders, grinning breathlessly as he flexes under her touch. He seems completely content to simply keep kissing her, but Skye’s hands are already travelling down to the buckle on his belt, tugging it undone without breaking the kiss, and then easing his fly open. He growls against her lips as her hand slips inside his jeans, cupping him lightly through the soft cotton of his briefs, feeling a fresh wave of arousal shoot through her at the way his cock jumps at her touch. He is hard and eager, thrusting lightly against her hand even as she can feel the way he is trying to hold himself still. Pulling her hand out his jeans, she shoves at his shoulder until he rolls onto his back and she climbs on top of him, the two of them maneuvering awkwardly on the narrow bed but managing it without injury.

As she settles on top of him, Skye leans down to kiss him lightly before pulling back up, smirking at his breathless protest as she reaches back to unhook her bra and letting the straps slide down her arms before she tosses it to the side. Ward’s eyes darken at the sight of her completely bare above him, and his hands slide up her stomach to cup her breasts, his thumbs pinching her nipples lightly and causing her to moan.

Drawing herself up onto her knees, Skye pushes his jeans and briefs down past his knees and he kicks them off the rest of the way. His cock is straining hard as it juts out from his body, and she reaches for him without pause. Ward groans as her hand closes around him, his eyes falling shut as his hips thrust up even as he clenches his jaw. She smirks and leans forward to press her lips against his jaw, loving the sight of his tight hold on his self-control beginning to fray.

“Condom?” she asks, slightly surprised by how hoarse her own voice sounds.

Ward reaches for the bedside table, his grip on the drawer turning white-knuckled as she grips his cock tightly and pumps her fist. When he finally speaks it’s through gritted teeth. “If you actually want me to be able to do anything here you might want to stop that.”

Skye just grins unrepentantly, the urge to tease him too strong, and she sinks down just enough that she can feel the head of his cock brush against her opening, the slickness of her sliding against him. Ward’s eyes honestly roll back in his head as his hand clenches roughly against the drawer handle, his jaw clenched so tightly that the bones are sharp against his skin as he fights to hold himself completely still. It’s a double edged sword though, her own breath catching sharply as his cock brushes against her clit and her hand jerks roughly in response. He slips inside her, just the tip, and they both freeze, neither one of them breathing as they hold each other’s gaze. And then, slowly, deliberately, Skye sinks down another inch. She knows it’s a reckless game to play, but the feel of him inside her is something she can’t resist, and the way his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise leaves her with a heady rush of control.

But then he’s flipping them so she is underneath him again with a shriek of surprised laughter, cut off sharply by a moan as he thrusts lightly inside her. He groans as well, his body shaking with the effort not to just sink all the way into her, but he seems to be clinging to his last shred of self control, pulling out of her with a softly muttered curse. Skye whimpers at the loss, and he leans down to kiss her again, his tongue rough and demanding as he reaches for the drawer again. She can hear him jerk it open and reach around blindly, not breaking their kiss. His search gets rougher as he settles his weight more heavily between her thighs and the underside of his cock rubs against her slickness again. Finally he yanks the entire drawer out, sending it and all of its contents crashing to the floor. Skye startles at the sound but Ward barely even reacts, just turning to search the mess for the box of condoms. He leans down to grab them and then turns back to her, a fever in his gaze as he tears one off the strip and rips the packet open with his teeth, his eyes on hers the entire time.

Skye is having a hard time catching her breath, and she reaches down to take over as he starts to slide the condom on, trying to regain some her equilibrium. He groans harshly, his eyes falling shut as she slides the latex over him, stroking him in her hand a few times before lining him up at her entrance again. One of his hands slides down her hip to tug her knee up over his hip, but the other comes up to cup her cheek so tenderly as he slowly sinks inside her all the way to the hilt.

He leans in to kiss her, softly this time, something so sweet about it that something inside her twists sharply, before he begins to move. He starts slow, both of them adjusting to the sensation of him filling her, and Skye has a split second of sudden sober clarity that she is actually  _having sex with Ward_. But then he brushes against that spot inside her that makes her see stars and both her legs are coming up to wrap tightly around his waist, any concerns about what might happen tomorrow morning are lost in the pleasure of  _right now_. His mouth is hot on her throat, kissing and sucking lightly, and the little groans that escape him just might be the hottest thing she has ever heard. Her nails dig into his shoulders as his thrusts begin to pick up pace, but it only seems to spur him on, his thrusts hard and deep and hitting her just right.

Her orgasm hits her like a wave, crashing over her hard. She isn’t aware of shouting, but her throat feels hoarse, and her pulse is pounding as she tries to catch her breath. Ward comes moments after her, groaning his release against her shoulder, his teeth sharp in her skin but she can barely feel it, caught in the rush of her afterglow. He sinks against her bonelessly, his breath stuttering against her skin and his weight almost crushing her, but she doesn’t want him to move an inch.

When he finally does pull away to dispose of the condom, they both groan at the loss of contact, and as soon as the condom is in the trash he is curling his body around hers again. As the sweat on their bodies begins to cool, Skye finds herself shivering lightly in the sudden chill and Ward reaches down to pull the blanket up over their bodies. His arms are still wrapped tightly around her, and while Skye knows there are so many things they really need to probably talk about, she finds herself being lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear and the haze of her afterglow. She feels the bone deep satisfaction that she is exactly where she is meant to be.

(Of course, everything looks different in the harsh light of day.)


	6. Senior year - part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward morning afters, Interventions and Laser Tag

_“So have you got the guts? Been wondering if your heart's still open and if so I wanna know what time it shuts”_

  
When she wakes up there is a split second where everything is perfect. Her eyes are still closed but she can feel the warmth of a body wrapped around her, fingertips lazily caressing her arm. She snuggles back into the warmth sleepily, a sense of pure contentment settling deep in her bones.

But then, as consciousness takes hold, everything comes back to her at once - exactly whose arms are wrapped around her and everything that happened the night before.

Her entire body tenses without her even meaning to, and she can feel Ward react. He freezes for a moment, his arms tightening for a second before he releases her. Skye lays there a moment longer, frozen as she plays everything over in her mind again. ( _The way he looked up at her, his shoulders between her thighs. The way his teeth felt on her skin. The way he said her name, his voice breaking against her throat._ ) It’s the memory of her own hoarse voice saying his name like a caress that has her jolting upright with a start, dragging the sheet up to cover her chest as she looks anywhere but at Ward. Her gaze gets caught on the mess of his spilled bedside drawer on the floor though, her eyes finally flicking to him. ( _The way he held her as she fell asleep, his fingers sliding through her hair and his heart beating beneath her ear._ )

When she meets his gaze though, the reassurance she was hoping for isn’t there, instead she just sees her own confusion mirrored in his features.

Then Ward’s face falls back into that perfectly unreadable mask that he hasn’t used on her in so long, his eyes flicking over her face as he tries to read something in her expression while his own gives nothing away. Skye’s shoulders are rigid and her cheeks are burning as she tries to figure out exactly what the etiquette is supposed to be in this situation. Is there a handy how-to guide for sleeping with your best friend while tipsy and trying to navigate the emotional minefield of the morning after?

_What is he thinking?_

His silence is maddening and she can feel that years-old frustration creeping up again. If he would just say  _something_ , she would know better how to react herself. But he’s just sitting there, like a rock, like the emotionless robot she always teased him about being. With a sinking feeling in her gut, Skye remembers the heavy taste of alcohol on his tongue when he kissed her. It was more than just the tequila, and she has no idea how much he was drinking at the party since he was keeping to himself all night.  _Was it a mistake? Was he just drunk and sad and she was there and offering comfort?_

Suddenly all she wants is to be very far away from him so she can try and sort through all of the things she is feeling and remembering and try and make sense of it all without those eyes seeing straight through her and stripping her bare.

( _Speaking of,_  Skye thinks, hiking the sheet up to cover herself more securely as she looks around the room for her pants.)

“Should-?... I should go,” Skye stammers, her hands shaking a little as she grabs at her clothes from the floor and tries to dress without dropping the sheet that still covers them both. It’s not an easy task and she’s pretty certain her sweater is inside out, but she manages it in the end.

Ward still hasn’t said a word as he slides from the bed and begins dressing in silence beside her, but when she braves another glance at him while she’s kneeling on the floor to scoop up her shoes she could almost swear there is something in his face that looks like heartbreak. His mouth opens like he is about to speak, but then his expression shutters again and he turns away from her. Skye waits a long moment for him to speak, until the silence begins to settle over the room with a tangible awkwardness as he still refuses to meet her eye. She finally gathers her shoes in her arms and walks from the room without a word.

Skye slips out of the room and shuts the door behind her, leaning back and sliding down to the floor, not even caring particularly that she’s in the hallway and a few early risers are giving her odd looks as they walk past her. Her head ends up in her hands as she groans quietly, trying to figure out exactly what just happened in there and how to fix it. Should she go back in? Did she misread the situation? What the hell was he about to say at the end there before he stopped himself? Was that hurt she thought she saw in his face real or imagined? Was it her panic or his that filled the room?  _What the hell happens now?_

Confusion and guilt and embarrassment war for control of her emotions. Dragging her hands through her hair in frustration, Skye realizes that having this meltdown against Ward’s door when he could potentially open it at any moment is probably not the best idea. So she gathers herself together and quickly makes her way down the hall to her suite, sneaking in as quietly as she can.

Kara’s bed is empty when Skye slips into their room, and while she’s grateful for the lack of questions, there is a part of Skye that wishes for nothing more than to be able to cry on her friend’s shoulder as she tries to make sense of the turn her life has taken in the last twelve hours. Instead she crawls between her cold sheets alone and pulls the covers over her eyes. Her eyes are stinging with unshed tears and she’s not even really sure why, but when she licks her lips she swears that she can still taste him on them and her thighs ache with the memory of him.

 

Avoiding Ward in the weeks that follow turns out to be easier than she thought, but she can’t fight the hurt that seeps in at the idea that he’s avoiding her too, even though she knows it’s hypocritical and ridiculous. This is exactly what she was so afraid would happen, this is the reason she never acted on those lingering feelings of attraction. He became the most important person in her life, more than just her best friend, he was the person she couldn’t get through the day without speaking to. And now they’ve screwed it all up and they haven’t spoken beyond a few stilted and uncomfortable pleasantries in weeks. The thing that she finds the most confusing though, is that the few times they are forced into a group setting that she can’t get out of with the excuse of looming assignment deadlines, she swears the expression that colors his features when she catches him watching her from the corner of her eyes is somewhere between longing and hurt.  _But...he’s the one who thinks it was a mistake. Right?_

She can’t stop kicking herself for not trying harder to talk it through that morning, for just running away. But it’s not like he tried to stop her from running out the door.

 

Skye walks into the suite one day to find all three of her roommates waiting for her on the couch with tense expressions, and deadpans, “Is this an intervention?”

When her comment is met with silence as the other girls glance at each other, Skye drops her bag and stares at them in surprise. “Wait, seriously?”

“It’s not an  _intervention_ , per se,” Jemma begins earnestly, only to be cut off by the other two.

“It’s totally an intervention,” Bobbi declares.

“We have been nominated by the group to get to the bottom of what the hell is making you and Grant act so stupid,” Kara adds, smiling a little to take the sting out of her words.

“So does that mean the guys are all ganging up on Ward right now?” Skye snarks back, feeling oddly defensive and cornered as she slumps down into the bean bag chair opposite the couch.

“No,” Jemma retorts. “Ward is not a ridiculously stubborn moron who refuses to admit that he’s completely in love with you, therefore he gets to skip the intervention.”

“Wha-?” Skye splutters, jerking up into a sitting position but being thwarted by the bean bag and ending up in some kind of undignified sprawl as she gapes at her friends. “Ward is  _not_  in love with me.”

Her statement is met by her three exasperated friends rolling their eyes in almost perfect unison. If she didn’t feel quite so betrayed at the moment she’d almost be impressed.

“Of course he is!” Jemma fairly explodes at her, her voice tight with frustration. “How can you still act like you don’t see it after all this time?”

“Seriously,” Bobbi adds helpfully. “You would have to be willfully blind to not see the way he looks at you.”

“To be fair,” Kara says, her grin boding nothing good as far as Skye is concerned. “She is also convinced that she isn’t in love with him either. So for a smart girl, she has proven to be a little intentionally dumb about this already.”

Skye just huffs from her bean bag, her arms folded across her chest as she plots her revenge against her former best friends. Jemma’s expression softens, and she leans forward to touch Skye’s knee gently and offers an apologetic half-smile. “I’m sorry, Skye. We shouldn’t tease you. We just want you to be happy, and something clearly happened between you and Ward and neither of you seem to be doing well right now.”

Groaning and burying her head in her hands, Skye tries to build up the resolve to deal with the fallout she’s sure will follow her next statement.

“We slept together,” she finally admits, peeking up at the other girls through her fingers after her announcement is met with a drawn out silence. Jemma is gaping at her a little, Bobbi looks unfazed but supportive, and Kara is grinning broadly.

“I knew it!” she exclaims triumphantly. “Trip totally owes me twenty bucks.”

“What?!” Skye hisses, feeling caught somewhere between betrayal and slightly scandalized. “You guys bet on this?”

“I didn’t,” Jemma insists indignantly. “Fitz and I just thought that Ward finally declared his undying love and you ran away.”

“When?” Bobbi demands, getting right to the point. The other two nod eagerly in agreement as all three of them turn back to Skye expectantly.

“That party at the Gamma house,” she says, shifting uncomfortably under their scrutiny. “The one where you and Jemma creamed everyone at beer pong. He was having a rough night and you guys were distracted, so I suggested we get out of there…”

“Wait,” Kara looks confused. “Where was I during all this? How did I not notice any of it happening?”

“You and Trip were on a date,” Skye reminds her.

“Ok,” Jemma breaks in, steering them back to the topic at hand. “So you slept together-”

“Was it amazing?” Bobbi interrupts with a grin. “Because after all these years of foreplay that the rest of us have had to witness, it better have been amazing”

“-And then what happened?” Jemma continues. “How did you go from  _finally_  admitting you guys have feelings for each other, to not speaking at all?”

“Uh, we didn’t do any kind of admitting of feelings,” Skye tells her. “We slept together, that’s all”

“What do you mean ‘that’s all’?” Jemma asks warily. “Didn’t you talk at all afterwards?”

“No,” Skye replies, her voice muffled as her head is back to resting in her hands to avoid the looks she knows her friends are about to be sending her way. “I woke up in the morning and it was awkward as hell, and I left.”

There is silence for a long moment after she speaks. Jemma is the one who breaks it.

“You left?” she asks incredulously. “You didn’t try and talk about it at all?”

Skye shakes her head. “No. I think I maybe said three words, before I got out of there.”

“Did he say anything?” Kara asks.

“Nope, nothing.”

“What an idiot,” Bobbi declares. “Actually, both of you. What complete idiots you both are.”

Skye gapes at her friend. “Why am I the one on trial here?”

“Because you’re the moron that slept with the love of your life after years of painfully unresolved sexual tension and ran away before either of you could figure it out properly,” Bobbi shoots back, firmly but not unkindly. “No wonder you’re both miserable.”

Skye groans and flops over on her stomach, not able to take the slightest chance of making eye contact. “Great, I’m totally and completely fucked.”

“I think Ward covered that already,” Kara snarks.

“Can you not?!” Skye screeches, before chucking a shoe at her roommate.

“Aww, babe,” Kara soothes, sitting down next to Skye and rubbing her back. “It sounds like you’re both pretty freaked out over what happened and then especially because neither of you actually addressed it. You ran because you didn’t know what to do. He shrunk back, because you were freaking out. Any of this sounding familiar? Am I getting warm at all?”

Skye grumbles, “Maybe.”

“Mmhmm. So now you have two choices. Ignore him for the rest of your life or face it head on and talk to him already. I, for one, would really love Option 2, because the last three years have been annoying enough with you two. I mean, really, must you continue to torture us all?”

Jemma and Bobbi both loudly agree with Kara’s statement.

“Look,” Jemma says gently. “This thing with the two of you, it doesn’t happen to everyone. At the very least you can’t throw away your friendship with him. You need to talk to him and figure out what you both want.”

“I know,” Skye finally mumbles. “I miss it. I really miss having him in my life.”

“Oh, of course you do.” Jemma says as she kneels by Skye’s free side and puts her arms around her.

“You’ll figure it out,” Bobbi says reassuringly as she leans over too, and soon all three girls are piled on top of her in a messy group bear hug, and even though she can barely breathe, Skye ends up laughing as she tries to hug them all back at once.

 

Later that night, after Skye and Kara have both climbed into their beds and turned off the lights, Skye hears her roommate roll over to face her.

“So,” Kara says, the grin clear in her tone. “Did he do that thing with-”

She is cut off mid-sentence by the pillow that Skye throws at her, but the snort of laughter coming from her side of the room is completely unrepentant.

“Gah,” Skye groans, scrubbing at her face with her hands. “Seriously, we are not going to compare notes, that would just make this too weird.”

“Babe,” Kara says, her tone sobering a little. “If we try to pretend it isn’t there, it’s only gonna make it awkward. Just lean into the weirdness and we’ll be fine.”

Skye feels a rush of gratitude for her friend and the way she has steadfastly refused to let this issue come between them, as well as her constant support. Rolling onto her side to face Kara’s bed, she murmurs across the darkness that separates them. “Thank you.”

She knows it’s insufficient to express everything she feels in that moment, but by the tone of Kara’s voice as she replies, “You’re welcome,” Skye thinks her friend understands everything she doesn’t have the words to say.

“Now give me back my pillow,” Skye demands, trying to interject a little levity into the suddenly heavy moment.

Kara laughs in reply and sends the pillow sailing through the dark to land on Skye’s face with a soft thump.

 

It turns out that trying to find the perfect moment to tell your best friend that you’re in love with him is actually kind of hard. The fact that she has spent the last six weeks avoiding him as much as she could definitely doesn’t help.

In the end it’s Hunter who ends up being the surprising source of clarity. She’s laying on her bed a few days after the intervention, trying and failing to focus on her assignment, because she cannot stop thinking about Ward now that she has finally opened the floodgates, when she hears Hunter’s voice from the open door to her room.

“Oh, she lives! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I assumed you’d become a myth,” Hunter cries.

Sitting up and putting her laptop down, Skye gestures at him to come in. “Hey Hunter. Waiting for Bobbi?”

He nods towards the other girl’s room. “You know how long she takes. Must get her curls to the exact right number of corkscrews,” he says affectionately, then looks more closely at Skye. “That shirt doesn’t quite look like it belongs to you.”

Skye glances down at her outfit. She’s wearing leggings and her favorite comfortable shirt (which just happens to be the shirt she failed to ever give back to Ward after the scavenger hunt).

“Um, well, it does now. Not that it matters.” She shifts uncomfortably, refusing to look at him.

“Skye,” he says seriously. “Much to the contrary opinion around here, I’m not oblivious. I remember the night you got that shirt and I know that its original owner and you have been out of sorts lately. Care to tell me why? I have been known to listen well on the rare occasion.”

Skye groans, “Does everyone know about it?”

“Know about what? That you and Ward are doing everything possible to avoid each other? Yes, love, everyone is aware of that.”

Skye flops backwards (she seems to be doing a lot of this lately) and throws her arms over her face. “Great. Awesome. Fantastic. Everyone in the known world is getting a front row seat to the trainwreck that is my lovelife.”

“Wait, your  _love_ life? What  _happened_? Last I knew, you two were just friends. Ridiculously annoying, rife with when-will-they-shag tension friends, but friends nonetheless.”

Skye scowls at herself and her big mouth, then sighs, because she might as well tell him. (She’s actually surprised Bobbi hasn’t already.) “Basically, we slept together a few weeks ago. We didn’t talk, I ran away, and now here we are, unable to even look at each other.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say? You never stop talking and ‘Oh’ is all I get from you now? I thought you were supposed to be my friend!”

“Hey!” he defends himself. “You just dropped a bomb on me! Give me a minute to catch up. I never thought you two would actually get around to it, you’ve been in such denial about it.”

Skye rolls her eyes. “Why does every single person think that Ward and I are this epic love story just waiting to happen?”

“Because you are.” Hunter’s matter of fact tone stops her cold.

“We…..we are?” she asks shakily.

“You definitely are,” he confirms. “You two have something between you that rarely happens. It’s obvious to everyone except you it seems. But looking at your face now, are we maybe not denying it anymore?”

 

Skye feels her cheeks flush and she bites her lip. “Maybe…”

“Well,” Hunter begins. “I know this might sound crazy, but he does live just down the hall from you. It’s not exactly outside the realm of possibility that you could just walk down there right now and talk to him.”

“I can’t just do that, Hunter. I haven’t actually spoken to him since that night. He probably hates me anyway.”

“Oh, Skye. If there is anything in this life I can guarantee, it is a) that Bobbi will be at least 15 minutes late getting ready and b) Ward does not hate you. Ever. Even a little bit. Not at all.”

“Well, I still doubt he would want me to just show up at his door and profess my undying love for him on a random Wednesday afternoon.”

“Professing undying love now, are we? Quite the change of tune!”

“Shut up, Lance.”

“Never, Skye,” he volleys back. “Now we still need to solve your problem. If you won’t go talk to him on your own, how do we get you two in the same room?”

“Who says we have to do anything? I blew it. It’s over.”

Hunter gives her the most horrified look. “It is not over! Are you doubting my abilities to shove the two of you together until you either kill each other or jump each other’s bones?”

“Gross!”

“You’re the one who slept with him,” he reminds her. “Ok, so you need a group setting where there are people around for distraction, but also enough privacy to have this conversation with him, yeah?”

“Exactly,” Skye huffs. “It’s ridiculous.”

Hunter has an oddly satisfied look on his face though, as he promises, “Leave it to me.”

Before Skye can question him further, Bobbi is calling out Hunter’s name and he jumps up and walks to the door, winking at her exaggeratedly on his way out.

 

Hunter’s brilliant idea turns out to be a group outing for laser tag, under the guise of getting to know Mack’s new girlfriend Elena. Skye is not as impressed as Hunter clearly expects her to be, going by the self-satisfied grins he keeps sending her way.

“Hunter,” she hisses as she pulls him aside. “Is this really your idea of helping?”

“What?” he replies, looking around innocently. “It’s dark, lots of private cubby holes to hide away in. Totally romantic.”

Skye glares at him in exasperation. “It’s people running around in the dark trying to shoot each other!”

“And how is that not romantic?” he volleys back at her, honestly looking confused at her lack of enthusiasm. “I’m telling you, find yourself a dark corner and he’s all yours.”

With that, Hunter pulls himself out of her grasp and marches over to wait for the doors to the arena to open. They are all assigned teams and given their vests and weapons. Skye and Ward are on opposite teams and he still isn’t looking her in the eye.

 _Dark corners_ , Skye thinks to herself sarcastically.  _Right._.

She has been trying to figure out exactly what to say to Ward,  _how_  to say it, practicing her words even though it feels ridiculous to prepare for something like this. She’s not exactly sure how she is supposed to give her damn speech if he won’t even give her a chance to be alone with him though.

But then halfway through the third round, Skye spins around a corner and barrels directly into Ward’s chest. The two of them both reel from the collision, before stilling in surprise as they recognize each other in the near darkness.

The silence between them stretches out for so long that the awkwardness begins to settle in the gap. Skye can hear the sounds of the game echoing around them, the rattle and whine of the guns firing, and people crashing into the barricades in the dim light. She hears Hunter curse violently after a particularly loud collision and she can’t stop the smirk that crosses her face.

There is a faint grin on Ward’s face too as she looks up at him, but it fades as he stares back at her.

“Skye...” he begins, before trailing off. She waits for him to continue, but he’s just looking at her helplessly, one hand reaching for her before dropping freezing to hover in the air between them unsurely.

Glancing around the narrow corridor they are in and pulling on all the threads of her resolve, Skye reaches out to grab ahold of his vest and uses it to tug him along with her as she maneuvers around the metal barrels that have been set up as barricades. With the curve of the corner and the barrels between them and the corridor they are semi-hidden. It gives at least the illusion of privacy if any of their friends come through the same path they had been on.

 _Dark corner_ , she notes wryly.  _Damn you, Hunter._

Once they are there though, she freezes up. She had an entire speech planned out, but now that she’s actually faced with the prospect of saying it all out loud, the words have completely abandoned her. Her fingers are still clenched in the front of the laser tag vest that crosses his chest and they are standing so close their toes are almost touching. His features are illuminated by the flashing lights of their vests, the red and blue clashing in their slightly hidden corner, and she can see the questions in his expression as his eyes flick over her face. Skye takes a deep breath and licks her lips, trying to school her thoughts into some kind of cohesive train, but the way that Ward’s breath hitches as he stares at her mouth derails any progress she might have been making. His sharply drawn breath has all of her attention being pulled to  _his_  lips in return. All of her focus is on the sharp cupid’s bow curve of his upper lip, on the plump jut of his lower, and the memory of how it felt to have it between her teeth. Her blood is buzzing, all the weeks’ worth of tension that has been building in her since that night in his room boiling over and suddenly she is hauling herself up with her grip on his vest to press her mouth against his.

He leans into her eagerly, his free arm wrapping around her lower back as he pulls her closer. Skye is up on her tiptoes now, one hand curled around his neck to hold him to her, scraping her nails bluntly against the nape of his neck as her lips part under his. Ward groans as his tongue slides against hers, and Skye feels literally weak in the knees at the sound, her fingers tightening on the back of his neck as she pours everything she has into the kiss. Her lips feel bruised by the time she pulls away, and the slight whine that escapes from deep in Ward’s throat has her flushing with satisfaction. While she wants nothing more than to keep kissing him in their dark little corner hidden away from the world, she knows they need to talk this  _thing_  between them through, at last, because she needs to know where she stands.

“Wait,” she murmurs, her mortification at the breathlessness of her voice slightly mollified by the fact that Ward seems just as wrecked as she feels. “We need to...there’s...dammit I had a speech!”

Ward actually laughs at her outburst, a surprised snicker that breaks through some of the tension in the air and Skye finds herself grinning back at him a little. And then Ward leans down to kiss her again, just a soft brush of his lips against hers before his mouth slides along her jaw until he reaches her ear. “So what were the main points of this speech of yours?”

He’s evil. He is Satan incarnate, come to torture her with lust and exasperation in equal measure. That’s all Skye can come up with.

His teeth scrape over her earlobe and any chance she had of speaking coherently is completely destroyed. Instead she says, almost moans, “I want you,” before the possible implication of her words registers and she can feel her entire body flush with embarrassment as Ward stills against her, his grip on her hip tightening as his fist clenches.

“I mean, I want...this. I want to do  _this_. Goddammit,” she snaps, groaning as she scrubs a hand across her face as she struggles to find the words that won’t sound quite so much like she’s propositioning him in the back corner of the laser tag arena. “I want to give this a real shot,  _us_. I want...you.”

It is not the careful speech she has spent at least an hour practicing in the mirror. It is mortifying.

Skye has her eyes scrunched shut as her cheeks burn and she focuses all her willpower on not physically sliding to the floor in an attempt to disappear. But then Ward’s hand is cupping her jaw, tilting her face up to his as he leans in, and her eyes snap open to find him staring back at her with that mildly intense focus he can get.

“I want you too, I want  _this_  too.”

Skye’s breath releases shakily in relief. No matter how confident she felt when she first dragged him into the corner with her, no matter how eagerly he kissed her back, she couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that he wouldn’t actually want to be with her, that maybe she missed her chance.

“Yeah?” she asks hesitantly.

“Completely,” he says softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering on her cheek. “Do you have any idea how long I have spent wanting to kiss you? I’ve wanted anything you’re willing to give me for years.”

Skye breathes in sharply at the intensity in his tone.

His lips are brushing against the curve of her jaw again as he murmurs into her skin. “I have wanted you since that stupid game in freshman year. Since you stuffed my car full of ping pong balls. I have spent the last three years wanting to kiss you, wanting-”

Ward’s gun clatters to the floor as both of his hands slide up to cup her jaw, and Skye distantly wonders what happens if they break the guns, and then his lips are on hers and all thoughts are gone. His mouth is eager and demanding as he pulls her closer, his tongue reaching out immediately to brush against her lower lip, seeking entrance that she happily grants. Skye can’t stifle the groan that escapes her at the touch of his tongue against hers, at the taste of him in her mouth, and the way it feels like coming home. The fingers of her left hand are clasping the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she tries to get as much of him as she can. He growls in response, his body crowding hers as they stumble back until they hit the wall. They crash into one of the obstacles on the way and something metal clatters as it hits the floor, the sound echoing through the space and there is a vague part of Skye that wonders if they are about to be caught by all their friends in this compromising position just because they both seem to have lost all sense of their surroundings. But then one of his hands is sliding down her back, his fingers digging into the denim of her jeans when he reaches the curve of her ass and pulling her closer, and suddenly she could not care less if all their friends appeared right now because there is nothing that could make her walk away from this man and the things he can do with his mouth.

She whimpers as he kisses along her jaw before moving down her throat, nipping lightly at her pulse point and sending shivers all the way to her toes. He makes a low noise of frustration when the ridiculous vest prevents him from continuing down her chest and Skye snickers in response as she slides her fingers through his hair. His forehead rests against her shoulder for a minute while he tries to catch his breath, before he staggers half a step back.

His features are half lost in the near-darkness of their makeshift hideout, but she can make out just enough from the flashing lights of their vests to see his heavy lidded eyes and kiss-bruised lips, the way his chest is rising and falling with his ragged breathing. Skye imagines she probably looks pretty similar. The two of them stand there for a long moment, neither one speaking, almost but not quite touching. Neither of them seem eager to break the stillness of the moment, something about this dark corner feeling like they are in a world all of their own for just now.

But as she stands there, Skye becomes aware of the weight of the gun still in her hand. Looking down at the weapon and then back up to Ward’s face she is struck by the memory of that game of Assassins, that began this entire thing between them, and inspiration hits her. It only seems fair, she thinks to herself as she raises her weapon between them, Ward’s eyes widening as he realizes her intention a second too late. His vest flashes erratically as she pulls the trigger, before the lights die with a slight whine.

“Gotcha,” Skye grins at him, before leaning up to brush her lips against his gently for one brief final kiss.

She can hear Ward’s laugh of disbelief as she turns away, and she turns to look back over her shoulder at him. “Pick me up at seven.”

His crooked grin almost glows under the blacklights, and Skye can feel her cheeks ache already from her answering broad smile.

“Seven,” he repeats with a nod, his voice still sounding a little breathless and Skye walks away with an overwhelming sense of sheer joy and a grin that not even being shot by Fitz a few minutes later can dim.

( _She’s never telling Hunter that his plan worked._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evie Notes: And, one more time, Daisy is literally the best. She is peanut butter waffles and sparkles and tinkerbell in human form. Without her this story would never have seen the light of day, and this chapter in particular would never have been written. Thank you so much, you amazing ray of sunshine, for always holding my hand through the parts where I scream in frustration, and for catching my ridiculously run on sentences and for always being there for some ridiculous and fun Hunter dialogue when I come screaming to you for help :)
> 
> This fic is my absolute favorite of anything I've written, all of the friendships mean just as much to me in this as the skyeward shippiness and it was so much fun to explore all of them. I am so sad that I lost the amazing comments that were left the first time it was posted.
> 
> Daisy notes: I love this story so much. The whole series has become one of my very favorite Skyeward stories, and not just because I was involved in it. It hits all my favorite things perfectly: humor, deep friendships, enemies to friends to lovers (holy hell, I am such a slut for that), and growing together. And it was one of the most fun experiences to write as well - literally "I will drag you over this finish line if I have to do it myself." Because the world deserved to enjoy this story. Not just once, but now twice! Evie, you're amazing and the best and thank you for letting me into this magical world you created. <3
> 
>  
> 
> Here is the list of prompts promised in the first chapter:  
> ["Inter-dorm wars" ](http://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/149832511784/just-a-game-just-a-game-fuck-you-i-will-dojuSt%20a%20game?%20jUST%20A%20GaMe?????%20FUCK%20YOU%20I%20WILL%20DO%20WHATEVER%20IT%20TAKES%20TO%20WIN%E2%80%9D%20or%20the%20%E2%80%9Cso%20competitive%20it%E2%80%99s%20almost%20sexual%E2%80%9D%20AU%20</a>,%20<a%20href=), ["We end up monopolizing every class discussion so much that we even annoy the teacher" ](http://evieoh.tumblr.com/post/140485089419/school-themed-prompts/), [“my friends talked me into playing a drunken game of spin the bottle even though we’re all adults and now we have to make out” ](http://evieoh.tumblr.com/post/142374961789/dohertyinc-better-ideas-for-chance-encounters/), [“My stupid friends roped me into a mall scavenger hunt and you’re on the list” ](http://evieoh.tumblr.com/post/142092657434/more-au-ideas/) (this one clearly changed as the story progressed), and


End file.
